What Could Have Been
by ladyanaconda
Summary: Companion story to 'Tears of Despair and Joy'. Another side of it, actually, how things would have been if La Muerte had survived childbirth. One-Shots depicting Xibalba and La Muerte with their little Marigold. Non-cannon.
1. Chapter 1

What Could Have Been

**To all readers; Due to everyone's suggestions and reviews telling me they'd like to see La Muerte helping Xibalba raise Marigold, and so I'd decided to make a quick another one-shots story. However, this is only a 'what could habe been' type of story and is not to be considered cannon with Tears of Despair and Joy. **

**Well, enjoy! :)**

* * *

Xibalba winced as his wife nearly crushed his hand when another contraction came. While gentle, loving and tender, La Muerte had the hidden strength of a thousand raging bulls when angry. This time, however, it was not anger that brought it out. It was their baby, their first and probably only child, who was ready to come into the world after nine months in her mother's womb.

"I'm here, _mi amor_, I'm right here with you…"Xibalba whispered softly to his wife, wincing when she nearly crushed his hand once more. "Keep breathing…"

La Muerte was covered in sugary sweat, tears of pain forming in the corners of her eyes, her grip on her husband's hand unwillingly squeezed every time a contraction came. "Balby… Please…" she managed to speak between pants. "Stay with me…"

"Leave it all to me!" the Candlemaker popped into the room, cheerful as ever.

La Muerte was far in too much pain to even care, but Xibalba wasn't.

"_Pero que demo_-?! How did you know her water broke?! Do you even know what you're doing?!" he snapped.

"Uh…" The Candlemaker thought for a moment, trying to find the words to answer both questions. "…Well, you two appeared in the Book of Life like this a few seconds ago, and… Well, I'm not happy to say I've more or less seen how mortals bring babies to the world."

"I'm not going to kill him, I'm not going to kill him. I'M SO GOING TO KILL HIM!" Xibalba mentally grit his teeth, glaring daggers at the Candlemaker as the latter approached the bed.

"Okay, you're supposed to breath slooowly, when you push, don't stop breathing, and you should only push when the stimulation is strong." When La Muerte let out another scream of pain at another contraction, the Candlemaker clapped his hands. "Yeah, just like that!

La Muerte screamed in pain yet again. Xibalba used his free hand to stroke his wife's head in comfort. "Hold on, _mi amor_!"

"Yeah, I'll be rooting up for you!" the Candlemaker made a foam finger appear on his hand.

Before Xibalba could attack the Candlemaker, the doors of La Muerte's chambers opened and Carmen ran in, followed by the Adelita twins, and other female Remembered carrying towels and clean sheets.

"Now what?!" Xibalba cried out in frustration as he glanced at the Remembered.

"This is not something that concerns you men!" Carmen snapped. "You're just getting her nervous! Go out and leave this to us!"

"Come on, we're only helping!" the Candlemaker replied.

That's when La Muerte had enough. "Balby… Candlemaker…" she spoke as softly as she could.

Both men turned around to see her. "Yes?"

Then she yelled at the top of her lungs. "GET OUT!"

Xibalba and the Candlemaker had embraced each other in fright. "O-ok…" Both blurted out simultaneously and sped out of the chambers before she had another outburst.

* * *

**2 hours later**

* * *

"Hey, Balby, how are you?"

Xibalba stiffened when the Candlemaker used the childhood nickname he only let his wife use on him, but he was far too nervous and worried to care right now. They were kicked out of the room, and all they could hear were La Muerte's screams.

"How do you think?!" the dark god snapped with sharp teeth. "My own wife kicked me out and I don't know what's going on in there!"

"Calm down, it's not that bad!"

"How can I stay calm?! La Muerte is giving birth!"

The screams made him jump, and then the whimpers, caused him to become still and pale. Wherever any of the Remembered came out of the room to go and fetch more clean sheets or water, the twins would close the doors before he could get a peek inside, much to his frustration.

Can I… Go in?

Is La Muerte alright?

Are they alright?

Boy or girl?

Can I go in?

What color is the baby's eyes? The hair?

Are there any complications?

Can I go in?

What's going on in there?

Why won't you let me in?

CAN I PLEASE GO IN?!

Those questions were tearing Xibalba apart ever since Carmen and La Muerte kicked them out. After what seemed an eternity of pacing in front of the doors, Xibalba froze when he heard a baby cry echoing from within the room. Before he could dash in, however, someone opened the door and walked out. It was Carmen. She looked up at the dark god with a smile.

"Congratulations. You have a healthy, beautiful girl."

"A g-girl?" Xibalba was trembling, but not out of dread. Before he was even told he could, he flew into the room. The bed was a mess, and the Remembered were cleaning up, but his eyes were set on his wife. Even with her hair a mess, her face sweaty and her eyes teary, she was still beautiful.

However, the center of his attention was the small pink bundle on her arms. He approached his wife warily, the least thing he wanted was to make her angry. But when she looked up at him, she was smiling.

"Balby…" she whispered with a warmth and tenderness he hadn't heard before (not this much, at least). "There's someone who wants to meet you."

Xibalba glided to the side of the bed and sat on his knees, leaning forward to take a look at his newborn child. Her skin was made of sugar, just like her mother, with a few golden swirls on her chubby cheeks. Her hair was an elegant raven black, also inherited from her mother. The little one was tightly wrapped in a pink blanket, suckling from her mother's chest, clearly enjoying her first meal.

Xibalba found himself smiling. He felt something wet in the corners of his eyes, but he didn't mind it. La Muerte giggled when she noticed what was going on.

"Balby, are you crying?" she asked between giggles. This was the first time she saw him like this.

"No, there's something in my eyes…" Xibalba simply said. Tears of joy streamed down his cheeks as he kissed his wife's forehead; he reached out to stroke the little one's cheek lovingly. "She's beautiful, just like you." The baby stopped nursing and snuggled into her mother's arms. "I'm glad she looks more like you, _mi amor_."

"She's got trains from you too, you know." La Muerte replied softly.

"Up to now, I've only seen your hair and your fair skin on her, my dear."

Rolling her eyes, but smiling nonetheless, she removed a bit of the blanket and exposed a small, feathered wing of a charcoal color with golden tips.

"She has your wings silly." La Muerte laughed at her husband's stunned face.

"I can' wait to teach her how to fly" Xibalba chuckled, before starting to play with his daughter's fingers.

La Muerte noticed the look on Xibalba's eyes. "Would you like to hold her, Balby?"

"M-me?" he gulped. "I don't know…"

She smiled. "Here."

"W-Wait!"

The baby was in his arms before he knew it. It was not that he didn't want to, he was just afraid to drop her or something. La Muerte pushed his arms up.

"There, hold her close to you, that way she feels safe."

She let out a big sneeze, before opening her eyes slightly to see who was holding her. There was not a sign of fright on her face as her vision cleared momentarily and she glimpsed at her father for the first time. Xibalba just couldn't get his skull pupils of his baby's eyes –which turned out to be red pupils with green sclera, the same color as his- as he stared talking to her. "_Hola, bebita. Soy papi. Me recuerdas_?" The baby looked up at her father; she knew that voice. She had vague memories of it, when she was back inside her mother's body. The baby gave her father a small, toothless smile and reached out her arms to touch his cheeks.

"You do remember me, don't you, _mijita_?" Xibalba smiled tenderly at her as he planted a kiss on her forehead. Then he returned her to her mother. "La Muerte, look, she has my eyes."

La Muerte managed to catch a glimpse of the baby's eyes before she buried her face into her chest. "Told ya." She smirked teasingly at her husband.

Xibalba didn't mind. He got on top of the bed and wrapped his arms around his wife's body, pulling both her and his newborn baby close to him, before embracing them with his wings. La Muerte snuggled into Xibalba's embrace and rested her head against his chest; the both of them were looking down at their child lovingly as she shifted in her covers, closing and opening her little mouth.

Xibalba kissed La Muerte's cheek and ran his hand through her hair. "Thanks for giving me this gift, mi amor." He whispered into her ear.

"You're welcome, _mi vida_." La Muerte replied gently.

Their newborn, still nameless daughter was looking up at her parents with wide and curious eyes.

"Hola, pequeña." La Muerte smiled down at her little one. "I'm your _mami_, and this is your _papi_."

The baby reached out her hand and held unto her father's beard, curiously trying to figure out what it was made of. Xibalba smiled tenderly as he stroked his daughter's cheek with his gloved hand.

"She likes you, Balby." La Muerte giggled, stroking her husband's cheek. Xibalba blushed, and planted a kiss on his wife's forehead before both looked down at their child once more. The baby left her father's beard alone and now targeted one of her mother's many locks of black hair, gurgling and cooing.

"How should we name her, mi amor?" Xibalba inquired, snuggling his wife deeply into his embrace.

"How about…" La Muerte rested her head against Xibalba's chest and stroked her baby's head gently. "Marigold?"

"Marigold…" Xibalba repeated. Like the flower. "It's perfect." He looked down at the baby lovingly. "Our little Marigold…"

The newly-named Marigold yawned and snuggled deeply into her mother's embrace, calmed by her heartbeat. La Muerte suddenly felt her eyelids heavy when watching her child sleep; she was exhausted over childbirth and labor pains, she wanted to take a little nap.

"You should take a little nap, _mi amor_." Xibalba told her gently, accommodating her pillows to make her more comfortable.

"But Balby, what about Marigold-?" La Muerte was interrupted when he placed a finger over her lips.

"You need to rest, _mi corazón_. Don't worry about Marigold, I'll look after her."

Despite her protests, La Muerte handed over her precious baby to her husband, and lay back on her pillows. As soon as she felt the softness of the cushions on her back, La Muerte fell asleep with a smile of joy and satisfaction. Xibalba returned the smile as he pulled her sheet over her with one hand, while holding Marigold in the other carefully; the dark god then bent down and kissed his wife's cheek softly. "_Que duermas bien, mi corazón._"

When he was certain she was asleep, he cradled Marigold in his arms and looked down at her wriggling little body as he went and sat down on La Muerte's rocking chair (she bought it for when the baby was born). Suddenly, Marigold started to sob and her little face distorted into a frown.

"Sh-sh-sh-sh." Xibalba cooed, carefully bouncing Marigold in his hands. Just then, he noticed she was very small; in fact, so much he swore he could hold her whole body in one hand. "_Ya, ya, ya, princesa_. _Papi_'s here, _papi_'s got you." Thankfully, Marigold calmed down at the sound of his voice, and snuggled into his warm, protective arms. Xibalba sighed in relief as he leaned against the back of the rocking chair and swayed it with his wings.

"Well, I guess it's just you and me for a while, _mi florecita_."


	2. Chapter 2

Innocence

When Marigold was born, Xibalba's 'pets' disliked her.

Garra, Colmillo, Medianoche, even Ponzoña wasn't very fond of their princess, but for very different reasons. While Xibalba and La Muerte mostly had their daughter in the Land of the Remembered, there were times when La Muerte would bring down Marigold to see her father to spend the night there. For those days, Xibalba had made a cradle for his baby, out of oaken wood, with a mattress filled with his own feathers, with a few on top of it to make it a bit more comfortable; wooden bars were stuck to the sides of the cradle to keep Marigold from falling out. While Marigold's crib in the Land of the Remembered was a traditional bassinet of pastel tones of pink, yellow and a touch of red filled with white blankets and pillows, this crib was more like a traditional cradle on a rocker, considering the Land of the Forgotten didn't like colorful nor flamboyant things.

Why did they dislike her? For each of the animals, it was a very different reason.

Garra and Colmillo disliked her because Xibalba no longer displayed them as much attention as before; before he would sometimes let them sleep with him on bed (when La Muerte was not down there, of course), but now he didn't even go into his chambers, thinking their fur might provoke his daughter an allergy attack. Now, all his affection to the hounds was displayed simply by scratching behind the ears.

Medianoche disliked her because his master no longer had time to go on a ride with him. All day, Medianoche was confined to his stable, often neighing and stomping his hooves to call for attention, but Xibalba would only tell her to be quiet or he would wake Marigold up. The horse would retort by stomping his hooves and neighing even louder, but this only made the dark god shake his head in disappointment and leave to check on his baby.

But Ponzoña disliked her the most. Before she came, everything was perfect. He had been the center of Xibalba's affection (after La Muerte, at least), and would often curl up in his lap or slid up his arm to receive his affection, a stroke on one of his heads or scratching under the chin. However, now it seemed Marigold had replaced him; Xibalba held her in his arms most of the time she was there, giving her the bottle or changing her diaper. And when she was taking a nap, he would sit next to her cradle and watch her sleep fondly. Wherever Ponzoña tried to take advantage of these moments to rekindle his bond with his master, Xibalba ushered him away.

Besides, what did that smelly, small, motionless thing have that made their master and his mistress fawn over it so much? All day it nothing more than sleep or cry, yet when she did wail Xibalba and La Muerte would immediately rush to her side and check on her. They hated it.

On this particular day, Xibalba was unfortunately immersed in his paperwork, while La Muerte had to go tend to some issues back in her own realm, not before they lulled Marigold to sleep and left her carefully swaddled in her cradle to take her nap. As always, Xibalba forbad Garra and Colmillo from disturbing his beloved daughter. However, as soon as they were sure he was in his study, the hounds silently scratched at the door; Ponzoña slid down his hat stand and towards the door, removing the lock to allow the hounds to come in.

Under no circumstances would they accept living under the same roof with that… thing. The best solution for this? Get rid of it. They would take it outside, and look for some place to leave it for anyone to find it and keep it if they wanted to. Besides, they hadn't really gotten to get a glimpse at the creature. The cradle was a few steps away from Xibalba's bed, with no sound coming from within it. Ponzoña slid up the frame of the cradle while Garra and Colmillo looked through the wooden bars with raised ears, their eyes on the baby.

Marigold was asleep, clutching a purple plush snake with black stripes that was bigger than her. Seeing her made them angry. However, only Garra uttered a growling sound from within his throat, before one of Ponzoña's heads hissed at him. If he startled the infant, it would cry; if it cried, it would call their master's attention, and they would be in deep trouble.

Suddenly, Marigold started to stir, and opened her eyes. She felt four pairs of eyes on her, but she soon knew none of them belonged to her parents. Her glanced changed between Garra, Colmillo and Ponzoña's heads, wondering what kind of creatures they were, and if they were friendly. She cooed and gurgled, reaching out for Ponzoña's heads; when he jerked away, she changed her attention to Colmillo and managed to grab on his nose. The wolf-like black hound whined in pain and jerked away its snout for her grasp. And she _giggled_ at it. Colmillo growled at her trying to sound as menacing as he could, but she only giggled even more.

Garra and Colmillo glanced at each other and at Ponzoña's heads. Why didn't she fear them? Was she that dumb? They proceeded to sniff her, searching for any kind of reason as to why. Marigold giggled when she felt their hot breath tickling on her skin.

The more they stared at Marigold, the more they realized they were actually fascinated with the little one. They noticed she had their master's eyes; red, circular pupils in a pool of green sclera, but her eyes glimmered with a great innocence, curiosity and desire to learn new thing, rather than coldness and cruelty. Ponzoña noticed two feathery black stubs coming out from the blanket she was swaddled in, just on her back. They recognized them instantly as wings. However, the most notable features this little one had was that it was like a younger, smaller and more fragile version of their master's mistress, in every single way.

Now Marigold was holding out her plush in the air, as if she wanted to show it to them; maybe she was saying that she wanted to be friends with them. Soon, the animals realized they were starting to like the pup, hatchling or whatever it was called. Colmillo couldn't help it, and he stretched out his neck to sniff at the plush snake; however, the material it was made off provoked him an allergy reaction that made him sneeze loudly.

Marigold yelped in fright and started to cry. The animals panicked; if Xibalba found them like this, he would think they made her cry on purpose and he would be mad at them. Quickly, Ponzoña jumped off the cradle and slithered towards the drawers he had seen Xibalba keep the baby's pacifiers. Meanwhile, Colmillo started rocking the cradle at the base to try and sooth the infant, while Garra howled a random tune he thought off.

Xibalba grew alarmed as soon as he heard his baby crying, dropping his long black quill on top of his desk in the process; 'upstairs', La Muerte immediately felt her baby was in distress, and in a blur of marigold petals, she transported to the doors of Xibalba's chambers just as the dark god landed in front of them two, growing even more alarmed when they realized the doors were open.

However, when they opened the doors to pulverize whoever had dared lay a hand on their child, they were rather surprised by what they found.

"Guys?" Xibalba thought he had fallen asleep on his desk and was having a weird dream.

Colmillo was rocking the cradle, Garra was 'singing' to Marigold and Ponzoña had slithered up the crib, holding a pacifier in one of his mouths; Marigold's crying ceased as Ponzoña lowered the pacifier to her lips, and she immediately latched on it.

"Well, Balby, looks like we won't worry about finding a babysitter the next time we go out." La Muerte giggled as she approached the cradle –Garra and Colmillo moved out of the way- and picked her little one up. Marigold squirmed in alarm and her eyes started looking for the hounds' and the purple snake's shapes.

Xibalba glanced at his hounds, and found they had cowered away from the cradle, giving him fearful looks, thinking he would be angry. However, the dark god grinned and patted their heads softly. "Good boys." Having received affection from him after days of watching form afar, Garra and Colmillo immediately lunged at their master and knocked him over to the ground, their tongues coming into contact with his face like when they were pups and he was just a boy. However, Xibalba wasn't finding the situation any funny.

"Garra! Colmillo! _Sentados_!" The dark god protested, trying in vain to push his hounds off him.

La Muerte giggled at the scene and was soon joined by Ponzoña and Marigold (Marigold didn't know what her mother was laughing at, she just imitated her). Finally, Garra and Colmillo stepped off their master and allowed him to go back to his feet; Xibalba frowned and wiped their remaining saliva off his face, then looked down at his cloak and glared at his hounds. "You know it doesn't wash off!"

"Don't be mad, Balby, they're just happy you actually paid attention to them." La Muerte smiled, scratching behind Garra's ear with one hand, making the hound pant happily and move his leg.

"I guess you're right." Xibalba sighed. He hadn't spent too much time with his pets, now that he thought of it, with Marigold's birth and all that. Xibalba approached Ponzoña, still on the cradle, and extended his arm out to him. "Come here, boy."

Immediately, the two-headed snake slid up Xibalba's arm and wrapped around the crook on his arms, rubbing both heads against his cheek. Xibalba responded by scratching under its chins with his long, claw-like fingers.

Suddenly, Marigold sobbed and wriggled in her mother's arms, holding out her hands for Ponzoña.

"Oh, _mi bebé_." La Muerte snuggled her daughter into her embrace. "You grew attached to Ponzy, didn't you?"

Xibalba thought for a moment, before walking closer to his wife, taking Marigold from her gently.

"What are you going to do, Xibalba?" La Muerte inquired curiously.

"There's someone else she is yet to meet."

* * *

Medianoche had given up his ranting of hoof stamping and neighing, finally accepting that Xibalba would no longer fall for it. Instead, he lay down unto his straw bed, relaxing and taking a nap, remembering when he and his master met.

_He was in his 'place' again. _

_His father would not find him here, that's what he hoped. He didn't want to receive another beating. In the darkness of his cave, ten year old Xibalba hugged his knees and buried his face into his them, wrapping himself in his wings, wincing everytime the freshly-made wounds made by a whipping stung. What did he have to do to earn his father's affection? He had no friends either, none of the other young gods liked him, they thought he was scary. When he thought of this things, he sobbed louder and his eyes stung with more tears. _

_A sound caught his attention, then the feeling of hot breath exhaling in his neck. Xibalba jerked back in fear that his father found him, but was surprised to find instead a young horse –probably a yearling- stepping back in surprise and startled eyes red eyes. Its coat was of the darkest black, its body was elegant and well-proportioned for its age and its mane and tail were gracefully curved at the tip. How had it gotten here? Animals always went up to the Land of the Remembered. Xibalba moved away again in fear when the yearling approached him once more. _

_"__Leave me alone!" he snapped, still sobbing, trying to wrap himself in his wings. _

_The yearling stared at his wings curiously, and stretched out his neck to sniff them. Then, he started to nib a few of them, making the young god snap his wing back in annoyance. "Go away!" Xibalba snapped, burying his face into his knees and turning around so that the horse wouldn't bother him any further. _

_The yearling realized the boy in front of him was sad. He started to think of way to cheer him up. Xibalba felt curiosity when the foal started to neigh loudly and stomp his hooves; when he turned around to tell the horse to go bother someone else, he was surprised to find the foal dancing (or at least trying to), stomping its small hooves rhythmically and lifting them off the ground. Xibalba couldn't help but laugh a bit at it._

_"__You're funny, stupid horse." _

_The foal neighed and approached Xibalba once more, then started licking his tears dry. The young god giggled even more than before, and gave the little beast some pats in the neck. _

_"__You're just lonely, aren't you, boy?" _

_The foal approached Xibalba and rested next to him, laying its head on his lap, flicking its ears in relaxation. _

_"__You lost your mama? I lost mine too. We can be friends if you'd like." _

_The foal let out a small snort. _

_"__How about I name you? I can't refer to your as horse all the time." Xibalba examined the foal for a second, before running a hand across its coat as dark as midnight… as dark as midnight. _

_"__How about Medianoche?"_

"Medianoche."

The horse was brought back from the unofficial Land of Memories when he heard his master's voice; happy after days of not seeing him, the stallion immediately stood up and approached the door of his box… but was very much disappointed when he saw a familiar, wriggling bundle in his master's arms. Master's mistress was holding unto his arm with a worried expression, her eyes set on the bundle. Garra and Colmillo sat a few steps away, Ponzoña wrapped around Colmillo's beck the three were staring at the horse anxiously.

"Hello there, _chico_." Xibalba spoke softly, gently bouncing Marigold in his arms to keep her calm.

Medianoche snorted and took a few steps back with bent back ears..

"I know I haven't been here to see you for the part days, but I'm here. I wanted to introduce you to Marigold."

Medianoche stared at the wriggling bundle of blankets in his rider's arms.

"Xibalba, are you sure this is a good idea…?" La Muerte whispered, tightly holding unto her husband's arm when Medianoche approached once more. "What if he gets scared?"

"Come on, _mi amor_, how could Marigold scare him?" Xibalba chuckled, reassuringly wrapping a wing around his wife, before centering his attention back on his horse and holding out his baby a bit. "Look, boy. This is my baby, Marigold"

Marigold was back to her nap, warmly swaddled up in blankets, suckling on her pacifier innocently, wriggling in her father's arms every now and then. Medianoche carefully reached out his neck and sniffed the child curiously, his ears pointing forward. Marigold giggled in her sleep at the ticklish sensation and tried to hide her face into her father's chest.

Suddenly, Medianoche didn't dislike the little one so much now. With a snort and a silent neigh, he grabbed unto her blanket and nibbled on it, in hopes of waking her up. Marigold opened her eyes slightly and started looking around for the thing that had interrupted her nap, and was startled when she realized there was a ridiculously large head above her, grabbing at her blanket. However, rather than being frightened by it, she was curious; immediately, she cooed and reached out for Medianoche's nose.

La Muerte giggled at the scene. "Aren't they a cutie?" However, her motherly side soon made her take her baby back from her father. "But we can't let her near them so much, Balby. Remember she's just a baby, her defenses are not that developed fully yet." But as soon as she stepped away from the horse, Marigold started to cry and reached out for him. "Aww, don't worry, _mi Chiquita_." La Muerte held her baby against her chest and kissed her head, soothing her a bit. "In a few months you'll be able to play with papi's _pets_."

"I'd rather use the term 'family', my dear." Xibalba spoke as he approached her, glancing at his hounds, snake and horse with a smile. "They're part of the family too."

The animals were touched by those words. As they saw La Muerte and Xibalba go back into the castle to lull their daughter back to her nap, they realized that they didn't need, nor want, to rid themselves of that brat; even that word, _brat_, had changed from insult to a cute nickname.

They just couldn't wait to play with her again.


	3. Chapter 3

Stillbirth

_La Muerte clutched her swollen stomach, gritting her teeth and letting out a scream of pain. She felt blood and fluid soaking her gown, and dripping down her legs. As soon as the spirits heard their Queen was in distress, they rushed into her chambers to find her leaning unto her night table to keep her balance. _

_"__Mi señora, what is it?!" the eldest of the female Remembered asked in alarm, though she knew the answer. _

_"__My baby!" La Muerte cried out in pain, her nails digging into the wood table. _

_"__She's going into labor!" the elder woman yelled, before turning at the spirits. "help her unto bed, and bring cloths and water." She turned to see the youngest woman. "Send a letter to Lord Xibalba to inform him of what is happening!"_

_The spirits helped their Queen rest back on the bed; luckily, the elder woman had been an experienced midwife in life, so she knew what to do, and she'd do her best to help her Queen deliver a healthy baby. It would be a few hours until her cervix dilated, so it would be enough time till her Lady's husband arrived-_

_"__WHERE IS SHE?! IS SHE OKAY?!"_

_"__Whoa, calm down, man!" _

_"__HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN?! THE BABY'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE BORN YET!" _

_La Muerte was both surprised and relieved to hear her dear Xibalba's voice; but how he had known she had just entered labor, she'd have to ask him later. But judging by the Candlemaker's voice outside, she could only guess he'd told him as soon as this part of her Story appeared in the Book of Life… La Muerte gritted her teeth in pain when she felt another contraction. _

_"__Hang on, milady!" the elder woman cried out. _

_When she let out another scream, someone pounded on the door, but the nuns locked it to prevent any men from going in. _

_"__Xibalba, knock it off!" Now it was Ehécatl who spoke from the outside. _

_"__LET ME IN!" _

_The next who spoke was Macuilcuetzpalin. "You're going to put her nervous if you keep doing that!" Damn it, had the Candlemaker told all of Aztlan about her going into labor?!_

_There was a knock in the door, but this one was softer than the one before. "Please, let us in, we can be of help!" That voice was feminine, so naturally the nuns opened the door. Xochiquétzal, Toci and Akhushtal were allowed in, but the nuns quickly closed the door before Xibalba had a chance to fly in. _

_"__QUÉ?! HOW IS IT THAT THEY LET __**THEM**__ IN, BUT NOT ME, THAT I'M HER __**HUSBAND**__!" _

_"__Well, they're women, to begin with." Tezcatlipoca snapped from the outside. "It's improper for a man to be present at a childbirth!"_

_"__I DON'T CARE! I WANT TO SEE MY WIFE!"_

_"__How's she doing?" Akhushtal inquired. "How much time between contractions?" _

_The elder woman stepped aside to give way to the Goddess of childbirth; she was much more wise in this matter. "Three minutes." Just then, La Muerte screamed again in pain; Xochiquétzal took her hand. _

_"__Are you okay?" the Jaguar goddess asked in worry. _

_"__What do you think?!" La Muerte replied between pants and grit teeth. "It hurts!"_

_"__It's always hard the first time, but you're a strong woman, you'll go through this." Toci assured the younger Goddess. _

_"__LET ME IN!" _

_La Muerte groaned in frustration. "Let him in at once, would you?!" _

_"__Absolutely not, it isn't proper." Akhushtal replied. _

_"__He won't stop yelling if we just leave him out there, and it might put her nervous." Xochiquétzal stated. "It'll be best to let him in, as much as we dislike the idea." The jaguar goddess snickered evilly. "I might even get to see him faint." _

_"__But she's almost dilated-" _

_"__Just bring Balby in!" La Muerte screamed in pain, her forehead sweating, her hands gripping her blankets. _

_Xochiquétzal rushed to pull the doors open, and the sight nearly sent her into bursts of laughter. The Candlemaker, Tláloc, Tezcatlipoca and even Lord Quetzalcóatl were restraining Xibalba by the arms and wings; the dark god was letting out muffled protests due to the Candlemaker's hand covering his mouth. _

_"__She says he can come in…" After finishing that sentence, Xochiquétzal burst out in fits of laughter._

_The male Gods just stared at her. "He can?" Xibalba took advantage of the distractions to free himself from their grasp and fly into the room. He landed right next to La Muerte's bed and took her hand tightly. "Are you alright?" _

_"__Your yells can be heard all the way in here!" La Muerte snapped, glaring at him. _

_"__I wanted to know you were.-"_

_"__I'm fine, now stop being such a crybaby!" La Muerte screamed again, and crushed her husband's hand, making Xibalba yelp in pain, but he contained it. "How much longer?!" _

_Akhushtal looked down, then up again. "I see something! Push!" _

_La Muerte did as told, gritting her teeth, nearly fracturing Xibalba's hand. The pain flared up and dulled. _

_Toci was placing wet cloths on her forehead to wipe her sweet, while Xochiquétzal helped Akhushtal in anything she could. "The head's crowning!" _

_La Muerte pushed with all her might, the pain was unbearable and she felt like she was ripping apart. Xibalba yelled in pain, but he never left his wife's side. He stroked her head gently and cooed at her, telling her everything would be alright. _

_The male Gods peered through the open door that Xochiquétzal forgot to close, and felt on the verge of fainting. La Muerte's head was spinning, and her vision turned blurry; however, she wouldn't give up so easily. _

_"__Just one more push!" Akhushtal said._

_With one final burst of strength add pain, La Muerte pushed. _

_Suddenly, she felt something was going on. She was aware of Toci, Akhushtal and Xochiquétzal chattering, the male Gods giving the Candlemaker a bucket so he could vomit, and Xibalba brushing her hair out of her face, kissing her. _

_However, she took notice of something. She didn't hear her child crying. _

_Akhushtal grew alarmed when the baby made no sound or movement after coming out; it was still, as if he were sleeping. She patted the child's back firmly to try to make him cry, and take his first breath, but nothing happened. She cut the umbilical cord and held the baby face down to give it a good spank, but the little one remained still. _

_"__What's wrong with him?" Xochiquétzal inquired, her tone alarmed and fearful; but she knew the answer._

_"__Wrong?" Xibalba immediately turned to the trio of Goddesses when he heard that word coming from her. "What do you mean?" _

_La Muerte sat up from bed and stared up at her baby boy. His skin was made out of tar like his father, but he lacked wings. He had a small tuft of white hair on his head, and golden and green swirls on his legs and body. However, she realized he hadn't given a single wail, nor moved a muscle. "Is my baby okay…?" _

_Akhushtal was now fearing the worst. She placed her fingers on the baby's neck to see if his heart was beating. She closed her eyes shut._

_There was no pulse. _

_"__Well?!" Xibalba urged, his voice growing desperate. "What's wrong?!" _

_Akhushtal's voice was so low they almost didn't hear her. "I'm so sorry…." _

_Xochiquétzal gasped and took her paw to her mouth, her eyes tearing up. _

_Toci closed her eyes and shook her head sadly at the news. _

_The male gods looked down._

_"__No…" Xibalba couldn't believe it what he was hearing._

_"__What's wrong?!" La Muerte raised her voice, sitting up despite her exhaustion and soreness. _

_"__He didn't make it." Akhushtal replied. Before she could give any more explanations, Xibalba snatched the baby out of her arms and held him close, looking down at him. _

_"__**Bebé**__, please wake up!" he spoke with a pleading voice, his eyes tearing up as he tried in vain to shake his son awake. "Wake up!" _

_La Muerte felt her whole world stopped the moment she heard those four words coming out from Akhushtal's lips. She watched in shock and denial as Xibalba continued to try and awake their baby, with no results. The little one remained still and silent. The goddess felt her little heart break in two upon seeing her child's limp body cradled in her husband's arms. _

_Realizing (and accepting) that his son was dead, Xibalba closed his eyes shut and sobbed as tears rolled down his cheeks, pressing his face against his baby's body, his wings dropping at his sides. Finally, La Muerte could take it no longer, and she burst out in tears. Xibalba immediately approached wife, and sat down next to her, wrapping a comforting wing around her; La Muerte reacted by wrapping her arms around his neck, and taking a closer look at their stillborn child. With a trembling hand, she stroked his chubby cheek, and her heart broke even more upon feeling the coldness of his skin. _

_Akhushtal, Toci, and the rest of the gods left the couple alone; the air grew sad and cold as they mourned for their dead child. _

_"__T-They could try again…" Xochiquétzal sobbed in low voice as Tláloc closed the doors shut._

_Akhushtal shook her head gravely. "What just happened marked them emotionally. I don't think they'll ever be able to conceive again."_

* * *

La Muerte woke up from her nightmarish memory with a fast-beating heart, cold sweat and tears running down her cheeks. Her motherly instinct flaring up, she was out of bed and was on her way to her baby's room before Xibalba could even ask her what was wrong. She slammed the doors open and ran towards her child's bassinet and looked inside; Marigold was startled awake by the suddenly loud sound, but her mother's face soon soothed her down; Marigold cooed and held out her arms for her innocently.

"_Mi niña_…" La Muerte sobbed as she took her daughter in her arms, and held her as close as possible, kissing her head and burying her head into her wriggling little body. "_Mi bebita_… _mi Chiquita_."

Marigold didn't understand why her mommy was crying, and she just stared at her in confusion. She reached out her little hands to wipe her mother's tears curiously.

"_Mi amor_?"

Xibalba nearly had a heart attack when La Muerte woke up out of sudden and burst out of the room before he could react, but he nevertheless went after her. When he landed into the baby's nursery and saw his wife weeping while holding their daughter in his arms, he felt his heart break. He had never liked to see his beloved wife suffering.

La Muerte didn't reply, she just kept weeping into her baby, clutching her tightly and not wanting to let her go. She didn't react as Xibalba approached her and gently took her by the shoulders. "What's wrong, _mi corazón_?" he asked in worry.

After what seemed like an eternity, La Muerte replied with a shaky voice. "I had a nightmare…"

"What happened?"

"Our first baby… he… he…" She couldn't continue the sentence as she turned around and buried her face into her husband's chest, still holding Marigold in her arms tightly.

Xibalba knew instantly what she was talking about, and he pulled her closer into an embrace, wrapping her in her wings. "Shhhh. It's okay, _mi amor_. I'm here." However, he just felt the wound in his heart from that painful and heart-wrenching event opening up.

"What if something had happened to Marigold too?"

"No, don't say that. Our little Marigold is fine, that's all that matters now."

"Balby… Why did our baby have to pass away without having even taken his first breath?"

"I guess we'll never know…" Xibalba stroked La Muerte's hair gingerly. "Please don't cry, _mi corazón_. It gives me pain to see you cry."

They could still remember the pain they went through. They buried their little one in a beautiful garden, in Aztlan, where Quetzalcóatl allowed them to do so. It was the first, and only time La Muerte wore black clothing. They'd never forget their dead baby's body as Lord Quetzalcóatl performed the corresponding funerary rites, and then proceeded to cremate him, sending his spirit to Chichihualcuauhco, the Land of the Dead Infants. The following years were a torture; they were tormented by the memory of their stillborn son, and unable to conceive another baby, no matter what they tried. That, and adding their estrangement a few centuries later… By the time they reconciled they had more or less gotten over the tragedy; and then a two years after their last wager, they were surprised to learn that they expected yet another baby.

They still thanked the heavens that their baby, their little Marigold, had been born healthy and alive.

Speaking of which, Marigold sobbed in her mother's embrace when she felt uncomfortably squeezed and soon started to cry. La Muerte gently pulled back from her husband's embrace and looked down at her daughter.

"Shhh, _ya, ya, mi Chiquita_." The Goddess kissed her daughter's forehead. "_Mami's_ got you now."

"Me too, _mi florecita_." Xibalba whispered softly, blinking his forming tears away and wiping his daughter's with his finger carefully. "We are both here for you."

Marigold looked up at her parents with glossy eyes, and wiggled in her mother's embrace, her wings trying to free themselves from their swaddling up. She settled down, gently grabbing Xibalba's finger and letting out a coo before going back to her nap.

Despite the contradictory tears, La Muerte beamed down at her beautiful baby, and planted a kiss on her forehead, watching as she fell asleep. "I don't want to leave her alone, Balby…" she whispered, stroking Marigold's cheek gingerly.

"We don't have to, my love. She can spend the night with us, if you'd like." Xibalba replied gently, looking down at his daughter with tender eyes.

The couple soon returned to their chambers, with La Muerte still holding their precious baby in her arms, cooing and bouncing her wherever she stirred in her sleep.

When they were back in bed, Xibalba pulled his wife and child closer with a wing and arm; La Muerte rested her head against his chest, and snuggled into his embrace, accommodating Marigold in her arms one more time; both deities were looking adoringly at the fruit of their love, before Xibalba kissed his wife's cheek. "_Buenas noches_, _mi amor_."

La Muerte returned the kiss gently. "_Buenas noches_, Balby."

The dark god bent down to plant a kiss on Marigold's forehead, and then he stroked her cheek with his thumb. "_Dulces sueños, mi pequeñita_." He smiled down at her.

Marigold cooed and shifted in her covers before settling down again.

They slept close to one another that night.


	4. Chapter 4

Uncle Zipacna

Five days after Marigold was born, the Land of the Remembered held a great _fiesta_ to celebrate her birth. All the spirits were out in the streets, dancing at the pace of the mariachi music, the colorful _papel picado_ was raining from the sky like rain, and all the food from the marketplace was for free to celebrate such an occasion. But La Muerte's castle was the center of the celebration, and all of the Remembered went to the throne room to meet the newborn child. The castle was decorated in colors of pastel pink, and confetti and _papel picado_ also decorated the throne room, with all the dancing or grabbing food from the tables, but the majority was fawning over their beloved Queen's child.

Marigold apparently didn't like to be the center of attention, for she was sobbing her discomfort about being surrounded by strangers and crowds of fawning women. She tried to snuggle even deeply into her mother's embrace; La Muerte just giggled as she shook the baby rattle Xibalba had made for their baby before she was born; naturally, this caught Marigold's attention as she tried to catch the rattle from her mother's grasp, cooing adorably and making the women around her fawn even more.

"Okay, you lot, leave my daughter alone." Xibalba approached his wife's chair and ushered the crowd away, before bowing down and tickling Marigold's nose, making her giggle. "Oh, _sí_, those annoying people won't leave you alone."

La Muerte rolled her eyes at her husband. "Really, Xibalba. They just want to meet our baby, is it that bad?"

"Just look at Marigold! She doesn't like it."

Despite Xibalba's protests, La Muerte allowed the crowd of elderly and young women to approach her child once more.

"Awww, she's a cutie!"

"Look, she's opening her eyes!"

"You bore a beautiful child, _señora mía_."

"coochie-coochie!"

La Muerte smiled at the compliments, but Marigold was still bothered by the crowd. Finally, Xibalba had enough of those insufferable women bothering his baby. "_Mi amor_, would you mind if I took our _pequeña_ for a while?"

La Muerte knew he actually wanted to get her away from the crowd, but nevertheless she decided to let him have Marigold for a while. He had spent all morning trying to do so. "Be careful, don't forget I fed her a while ago."

"Aww, come with _papi_, _mi florecita_." Xibalba paid her no heed for the moment, and simply took his daughter from his wife's arms, cradling her in his own and making funny expressions. "Who's a good baby? Who's a good baby?" he laughed when Marigold giggled uncontrollably and tried to imitate his faces.

La Muerte giggled when she saw the scene, but the spirits felt rather… awkward at seeing the god of fear acting too jolly, maybe because they were used to his darker, cruel and unforgiving side that he showed to anyone but his wife (and recently his newborn child); no, with La Muerte and Marigold he was a completely different man. When he noticed the looks the Remembered were giving him, he spread out his wings and hissed at them with sharp teeth, making the spirits scramble away; however, this startled Marigold, and she started to cry. Xibalba panicked instantly, not only because of what just happened, but also because of the annoyed look La Muerte was giving him.

"No, no, no, papi didn't mean to scare you, _mi florecita_!" he cooed gently at Marigold, bouncing her in his arms. "Sh-sh-sh." It took him a few more minutes, but eventually he managed to calm Marigold down by sticking out his tongue at her. Marigold stared at her father curiously with wide, glossy eyes, and it wasn't long before she stuck out her tongue back at him.

Despite her earlier annoyance that her husband had startled her baby, La Muerte couldn't contain a giggle as she stood up from her seat and approached her two babies as they stuck out their tongues at each other. There was a little detail she had to mention Xibalba.

"Balby?"

"What is it, _mi amor_?" Xibalba replied, still laughing at Marigold sticking out her tongue at him, probably in revenge for startling her.

"I'm glad you agreed that I invite your brother."

"Me too, my-" Xibalba processed the sentence into his brain. When he did, his eyes snapped open in hock as he looked at his wife, "you WHAT?!"

"I invited your brother to come over so he could meet Marigold."

"What-?! But-?! Why didn't you ask me before?!"

La Muerte crossed her arms and frowned. "I _did_."

"What do you mean you did?"

"Don't you remember? Two days ago when we were putting Marigold to sleep I asked you if I could invite Zipacna to the party, but it seems you were too busy to pay me any attention."

"_Maldita sea_…!" Xibalba muttered under his breath as he started bouncing Marigold gently. "Isn't there a way to uninvited him before he comes?!"

"Xibalba! He's your brother!"

"What kind of brother abandons-!" he stopped himself in mid-sentence. Now was not the time to argue over something so… delicate to him, not around all the Remembered who were just enjoying themselves, most of them oblivious to their small argument. Before any of the two could say anything else, suddenly the atmosphere grew dark and cold, and without warning a flock of about thirty crows burst through the doors, startling every single spirit, fearing a demon of the darkest depths had come to take them away. The flock of crows flew in circles around a now-empty part of the dining hall, until they merged together into one single form with a blur of dark feathers.

Xibalba wanted to look away, but La Muerte must have read his mind, because she grabbed his chin a bit harshly and keep his head from turning away.

Moderate harlequin eyes with dark grayish opal pupils set on Xibalba. "Hi, little bro." the voice of the creature chirped happily.

The dark being that had just materialized was made out of crow feathers, they covered nearly all of his body. His wings, though, were naked like those of a bat. His head was that of a caiman, with a few fangs sticking out of his mouth, and feathery bat ears, with a crest of feathers twitching depending on his mood. His torso was like that of a human, but his legs were crow talons and his thick tail was covered in long, thick feathers. A long, dark brown cloak hung from his shoulders and reached all the way to the floor, with bracers of obsidian on his forearms and forelegs.

Xibalba remained emotionless. "Zipacna." He spoke in low voice with a twinge of bitterness.

"What? Don't I get a hug from my little brother?" Zipacna teleported in a blur of feathers to his brothers side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. La Muerte giggled, but Xibalba wasn't very much excited to see him at all. Zipacna then proceeded to greet his sister-in-law. "La Muerte! Long time no see, honey!" In another blur of feathers he was next to her, and lifted her hand to plant a kiss on the back of it. "You're still as pretty as the last time I saw you."

La Muerte smiled politely. "Thank you, Zipacna. I'm glad to see you after all these centuries, too." She noted Zipacna's eyes darted from her to his brother, hoping to see at least a small twinge of gladness to see him, but she saw the disappointment through his jolly mask that Xibalba remained as cold as always.

A coo of protest caught the three gods' attention. Marigold had started to squirm in her father's arms, trying to call their attention, angry at being ignored. Zipacna's eyes brightened.

"Is that my niece?" he chirped in delight, leaning closer to take a better look at his brother's daughter. Xibalba instinctively tightened his hold on his child, but he allowed Zipacna to take a look at Marigold. Marigold was looking up at her uncle curiously, wondering who he was and why her father became all-serious when he arrived. However, she started to giggle when the crow-caiman tickled her chin with a long claw. "Cochie-cochie-cooo!"

La Muerte giggled at the scene, but she was annoyed at Xibalba's mask of indifference. She decided to do something about it. "Well, Zipacna, I hope you'll excuse _us_."

Xibalba was relieved that she said those words, hoping she'd taking him away, but she simply took Marigold from his embrace and started walking away, not before giving them a glance, ignoring her husband's uncredulous stare. "I believe you two have a lot to catch up to."

As the ruled of the Land of the Remembered returned to the anxious crowd of spirits and allowed them to see her daughter, the two brothers were left alone. None of the two said anything for a while, instead their gazes were awkwardly elsewhere.

While Zipacna had been the eldest of Akrinok's sons, their father thought him an abomination because of his crow-like appearance, and instead opted to give his throne to his younger child. However, the thing the two brothers had in common was that both had been victims of their father's physical and emotional abuse. Zipacna would stand up for his little brother and would always get the worst beatings for doing so; the two of them were very close as children, until the day Zipacna could stand it no longer and ran away.

In other words, he left Xibalba behind.

Zipacna eventually turned eighteen, and he was granted a realm of his own, the Land of the Cursed, where the worst of scum of humanity went to, not accepted in the Land of the Forgotten. He never let the nature of his realm twist his jolly, even carefree personality. A few years later he heard Akrinok had been killed in a duel, and his little brother had been left alone. Still, he was so busy with his realm that, unfortunately for both, he could not visit him. Then Xibalba turned eighteen, and was crowned as the ruler of the Land of the Forgotten.

Zipacna couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Xibalba was King at that time, but he was still happy for him. He still had his vague memories of a smiling little boy with crow wings and body of tar and green. Now, before him, stood a strong, regal god with snow-white moustaches and beard, tall and handsome (to some) in a regal black cloak and armor, and as always, the leather gloves and the snake staff. When had _that_ happened? What kind of evolution had Xibalba gone through? Curiously, everyone often thought mistakenly that Xibalba was the older of the two brothers, since he was always the most serious and mature of the two.

Over the years after Xibalba's coronation, Zipacna tried to rekindle his relationship with his younger sibling, but Xibalba deeply resented him for abandoning him to suffer under their father's cruel hand, and mostly avoided interaction wit him. Sure, they'd have to see each other every time there was a meeting in Aztlan, but Xibalba's tone was always cold and distant. Zipacna wouldn't give up so easily, however. They noticed for years that the other Gods had been trying to get the two brothers to get along again, La Muerte being one of the main schemers.

The _fiesta_ continued and both brothers stood there, Zipacna raking his brain to think of something, anything to say and break the heavy silence that had settled between them.

"_Hola_."

"…_Hola_? _Hola_ me?" Zipacna pointed a finger to his chest, never in his life expecting Xibalba to be the one to speak first. His brother was still serious, but his gaze softened up a bit. "Oh! Um. "_Hola_!"

"…You look good." Xibalba said, fidgeting with his staff.

"Flattery will get you nowhere." Zipacna winked, his shoulders finally relaxing. "If you saw how many girls have fawned over me over the years."

Xibalba's chuckle was a godsend. When was the last time he'd head that? Not a boyish giggle, but the deep laugh of his amused brother.

"I sure hope you don't introduce them to me." Xibalba muttered. "We don't want another _Hija de Perra_."

The comment should've stung, but Zipacna found it funny. Xibalba was obviously testing the waters. He probably didn't know how to interact with him, what jokes to make. Zipacna wanted to let him know, gods, he wanted to cry out to the heavens that he could joke as crudely as he wanted, as long as he did not ignore Zipacna again. As long as they could keep this conversation going, Xibalba could say whatever he wanted for all Zipacna cared

Suddenly, Xibalba's eyes narrowed. "What the…?"

"What? What is it?" Zipacna panicked, scanning the room, trying to find the source of what had caught his brother's eye.

"The cake…" the Ruler of the Forgotten frowned.

"The cake?" Zipacna's eyes landed on the seven layer cake with the chocolate ganache frosting at the far end of the room and almost snorted.

The cake had a missing patch of frosting with the shape of a bird's talon, and a hastily placed _empanada_ was stuck to the side. It looked ridiculous.

"Did you do that… interesting decoration?" Xibalba's gaze turned to his brother.

"…No."

"Zipacna."

"…That's what you get for making a chocolate cake when you know it's my weakness."

Xibalba laughed. His brother might be ridiculous sometimes, but he had a good sense of humor. Zipacna was so relieved, he laughed along. A good, throaty laugh. When was the last time they'd shared one?"

"When I came in, one of my crows snatched the frosting." Zipacna explained between laughs. "And, uh, things went wrong."

"I can imagine…" Xibalba's eyes returned to his wife and daughter. By then, Marigold was crying her annoyance out, but soon soothed down when La Muerte shook the rattle he'd made for her above her little head, and their baby instantly wanted to grab it with a wide, toothless smile. He couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"She's a beautiful girl, you know." Zipacna stated. "Your daughter."

"Thanks… I suppose." Xibalba sighed, his mask of indifference melting own, as well as the ice in his heart. "I'm glad she looks more like her mother."

"Me too." Zipacna muttered under his breath with a sly grin, until his brother frowned at him. "What? No offense, little bro, but I think she's more cute than you."

Xibalba rolled his eyes, but he couldn't contain the small grin on his lips. He had to admit, maybe he _did_ miss his brother a bit. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to give it a try… at least once, and see if their friendship could be mended.

La Muerte temporally set shifted her attention from her giggling baby to the two brothers, who had started a more-or-less formal conversation that was turning more and more warm, at least that was the impression she got. Marigold caught sight of her father's wings and she let out squeals and coos as she reached out her arms for him. La Muerte giggled and lifted up her baby to hold her against her chest. "Looks like your papi and your uncle are making up. How about we go and see what they're talking about?"

Xibalba and Zipacna were so immersed in their conversation (they touched the topic of girls, but Zipacna was more open on the subject than Xibalba due to the latter's married status) they didn't notice La Muerte approaching.

"One of these days you should come with me to that bar, there are lots of pretty girls there." Zipacna chuckled.

"Yeah, well…" Xibalba shifted uncomfortably, supporting himself on his staff. "I'm not really into that anymore… I only have eyes for my _Muertita_…" he jumped at the familiar grunt coming from his wife. He and Zipacna turned their heads around to find La Muerte glancing at them with a frown, and little Marigold reaching out for her father. "I know, _mi amor_, you don't like to be called like that!"

La Muerte smirked teasingly at her husband and patted his cheek. Zipacna nearly burst out laughing when he saw how his little brother melted into her touch with a goofy smile. Marigold giggled and clapped her little hands, amused by the scene too.

"Well, honey, looks like you have him eating from your hand!" Zipacna chuckled heartily.

Xibalba blushed fiercely. "Shut up." His voice sounded more embarrassed than annoyed.

"Balby, Marigold has been pleading for you to hold her for a while now." La Muerte handed their child over to her husband. Immediately, Marigold's fingers clung unto her father's beard and fidgeted with it, giggling at the ticklish sensation of the snow white hairs.

"Hey, Xibalba…" Zipacna blurted out, fidgeting with his tail nervously.

"What is it?" the younger god inquired gently, without ooking away from his daughter's beaming grin as he played with her fingers.

"Can I…" the crow-like caiman gulped. "CanIholdher?"

Xibalba blinked in confusion and finally looked up at his brother. "What?"

"Can I hold her?"

La Muerte smiled at her brother-in-law. "Sure you can, Zipacna, you don't have to ask." She gently squeezed Xibalba's arm. The dark god looked down at his baby as she cooed and gurgled, kicking and flapping her wings a bit. Letting out a sigh, he approached his brother and held her out.

"Just be careful. She doesn't feel very comfortable with strangers."

Zipacna tensed up a bit as Xibalba handed Marigold over to him, showing him how to support her properly. Like Xibalba had said, Marigold was frightened when she felt she was no longer in either of her parents' embrace, and even more at her uncle's rather frightening appearance; she started to cry, and reached out for her mother and father. Zipacna panicked and bounced her, trying to calm her down; however, he was bouncing her too hard.

"Nonono-!"

"Zipacna, wait, she's just-!"

Neither La Muerte or Xibalba could do anything as Marigold vomited unto her uncle's chest. Zipacna quickly held her away from his chest and looked down in dismay at the milky liquid running down his torso. Marigold giggled and clapped her little hands. La Muerte and Xibalba just stood there, staring at the scene, before both started to laugh. Some of the Remembered around them were watching in amusement, and a few had even burst out in laughter.

"Hahaha, very funny, all of you." Zipacna rolled his eyes, before lifting Marigold up in his hands to look at her eyes. "I'll remember this, _sobrina_." He tried to sound intimidating, but in reality he was laughing his heart out internally. He couldn't contain a grin when Marigold gave him a beaming grin once more, and reached out her tiny hands to touch his snout.

Xibalba smiled as he glided closer to his older brother and took his daughter back from him; Marigold was glad to be back in her father's warm, protective arms, and hid her face into his chest.

"You know, Zipacna, you should come visit more often."

Zipacna snickered and patted his brother's back with a clawed hand. "I will, little bro."


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't his night. There _had_ to be an ash blizzard tonight. He cursed his luck; however, it was not the storm itself that bothered him, rather it was the effect it had on his wife and child. La Muerte had been afraid of storms ever since they were kids, and it she never lost that childhood dread; unfortunately, she passed it down to Marigold as well. Right now, Marigold was peacefully asleep (thank the Land of the Blessed), but her mother was not having such luck, and it annoyed him to some extent. He tried to go back to sleep, but his wife's yelps wouldn't let him.

"Would you please stop yelping? It's giving me a headache." Xibalba rubbed his temples trying to ease the tension. His dark haired goddess turned on her side, and stared at him with her beautiful yellow orange eyes filled with both concern and fear. Xibalba immediately regretted his harsh words. After all, it wasn't this often that she and Marigold came to spend the night at his castle. However, he couldn't predict that an ash blizzard would occur this night.

La Muerte lowered her eyes, then looked back up at his face. She had never flinched wherever she saw him; while everyone else thought him frightening, she did not. To mortals and other gods he was a monster of cruelty and lies, to her he was a black swan, different but beautiful nonetheless (though she dislike former his habit of cheating on wagers), that alone brought tears to his eyes. Xibalba loved his wife to the heavens, and beyond that, more than his very life; he didn't know what he would do without her.

"I'm sorry, Xibalba, it's just that those thunders are so loud… and they might frighten Marigold..."

"There is no reason to worry, _mi amor_, all is fine." He said as he tried yet again to get in a comfortable position, so far he had failed.

"Maybe I should-"

"No, Muertita, she is fine, believe me. Marigold is perfectly fine." He drew her closer to him with his wing, cuddling her figure against his chest. He nuzzled her neck tenderly, then traveled up into her glorious waves, enjoying her scent; it enchanted him into another world, one full of color and beauty.

La Muerte gently laid her hand on his arm, begging without words to let her go and tend to the reason of her worries. He growled and pulled her even closer, and mumbled something into her hair.

"Hmm? What did you say?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face. Xibalba mumbled the foreign words again from her hair.

She grew irritated and turned over so she could somewhat face him. "Xibalba, I can't hear what you're saying, speak up."

He shifted her closer, earning her body to sink beneath his skeletal yet muscular one (minus for his bony arms). "You worry too much, _mi corazón_. You need to stop, or you'll ruin your beautiful face with wrinkles." He said with a lazy tone, before diving back into her luscious hair, groaning in delight of the softness pressed against his face, it was heaven to him.

A lighting flashed, and La Muerte quickly moved into Xibalba's warm, protective embrace, burying her face into his chest, clutching at his purple bathrobe when the thunder followed soon after, letting out a small sob. She looked up at her husband's face. "She doesn't like thunders, you know it." Xibalba sighed again and propped himself up on one elbow and raised a snow white eyebrow.

"Who do you think she got it from? You shouldn't worry so much, it's not healthy, our baby will be fine. She'll let us know if something is wrong, but for now we should let her sleep."

La Muerte whimpered again at another thunder, which made Xibalba groan and flop onto his back, with his face buried in his pillow, and his fists clutching the sides of it, trying to calm his nerves. La Muerte huffed in irritation and turned her back on him, embracing herself and trying to hide in the blankets. Once more regretting his harsh words, Xibalba tried to touch her shoulder but she slapped his hand away. At the fifteenth thunder, the dark-haired goddess made her mind.

"I really think I should check on her. I just have a bad feeling, I don't want to leave her alone." Thankfully she finally had gotten to finish her sentence without him interrupting her.

"You checked on Marigold half an hour ago. If she needed tending too, she would let us know, no doubt about it. That's why they call it wailing, _mi amor_. Stop worrying, everything is alright, trust me." Her eyes widened a fraction before she playfully slapped his arm, earning a yelp in response.

She huffed again, and threw the covers off of her, but just before her feet touched the cold hard stone floor, a loud crackling boom shook the room. La Muerte gasped and jumped unto Xibalba's surprised form to find protection in his wings, her knee 'accidentally' marking score with his unprotected groin.

La Muerte brought a hand to her mouth trying to act astonished, but trying to hide her laughter. "Ay, Balby, I'm sorry! It's just I think Marigold would feel better if I held her. She needs us both." She pleaded with her big orange eyes, and no creature in any realm could have resisted that look, no matter how hard they tried, not even the King of the Land of the Forgotten.

Xibalba chuckled as he enveloped his wife with a wing, planting a kiss on her head. "You reminded me of that time when we stayed out late in your treehouse, and a storm broke out. We had to stay the whole night there."

La Muerte blushed a bit. She remembered it really well; when they were kids they had gone to her treehouse to play, but before they could go back inside a storm poured down the sky, and they had to stay up there the entire night, which she spent crying and sobbing because of the thunders. She remembered her Balby comforting her and holding her close, just like he was doing right now.

In a flash he surprised her with a passionate kiss. She placed her arms on his neck, bringing him closer, and he did the same. Their bodies pressed together, his tongue sought entrance through her soft lips, she obliged willingly, and did not hesitate to part them, the ash blizzard forgotten. Just as things were starting to heat up, they were rudely interrupted by the main focus of La Muerte's worries.

A wail reached their ears. They both sighed. The passion between them faded into the night. 'Oh, the joys of being a father.' Thought Xibalba, his wife had won this round… again. La Muerte gave him a triumphant grin and he just grunted.

"Ha, I was right. Again."

Xibalba rolled his eyes, and turned over. Trying to block her out with his wings. "Happy you got your way as always, _mi amor_." He said from his side, not looking at her.

"No, not quite."

He looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

La Muerte grabbed his arm. "You're coming with me. Marigold won't be a happy baby unless both her parents are present."

"Fine, then after that we go to sleep… or did you have anything else in mind?" he playfully added, but she ignored him. One thing was clear. Marigold was not happy, and neither was her _papi_. But nevertheless they were one big happy family (most of the time, at least).

La Muerte leaned down and picked up the small, wriggling bundle, bouncing her wailing daughter in her arms. "Sh-sh-sh-sh, _No llores, mi bebé_. _Aquí esta mami_." Marigold looked up at her mother with big glossy eyes. When the booming thunder echoed in the room and the halls of the castle, Marigold started crying her fear out. Xibalba approached his wife from behind and embraced her by the waist with one arm, and tried to make his daughter smile by tickling her nose with his other hand, but it was no use.

"Hard public." Xibalba sighed, kissing La Muerte's head gingerly.

La Muerte held her daughter closer to her chest, knowing that the best course of action in this case was a lullaby. Rocking her beloved child back and forth in her arms, she started to sing with her nightingale, ambrosial voice.

_Te amo y más de lo que puedas imaginar_

_Te amo y sabras como nunca nadie jamás lo hara_

_En esta canción va mi corazón_

_Amor más que amor es el nuestro y te lo vengo a dar. _

Xibalba smiled when he heard his wife singing. He adored her angelical voice, but that was not the only thing that made his soul soar. That lullaby she was singing was actually 'their' song, the one she had sung for him countless times, the first when they were in their teens, hanging out on a picnic together.

_Te miro y más y mas y mas te quiero mirar _

_Te amo y sabras puro sentimiento y no hay nada mas_

_Y sueño llegar a tu alma tocar_

_Amor mas que amor es el nuestro y te lo vengo a dar_

But Marigold was still sobbing, cuddled deeply into her mother's embrace, still frightened by the ire of the ash blizzard outside. La Muerte was trembling inwardly everytime she heard the thunder booming outside, but she had to be strong for her child. She did panic a bit when Marigold was about to cry again.

**Ruego a dios tenerte a mi lado**

**Y entonces poderte abrazar**

La Muerte was caught by surprise when she heard Xibalba's voice singing. Even Marigold stared up at her father with wide, curious eyes, as Xibalba carefully borrowed his daughter from her mother, and rocked her back and forth in his arms. Wiping her tears from the corners of her little eyes carefully with his finger, he continued with the song.

**Si no estás aquí algo falta**

**Yo por ti pelearé hasta el final**

La Muerte smiled as she grabbed unto Xibalba's arm and watched as Marigold giggled and reached out to touch his cheeks, kicking her little legs, before she noticed her mother was also there.

**Y sueño llegar a tu alma tocar**

**Amor mas que amor es el nuestro y te lo vengo a dar. **

Marigold no longer minded about the thunder, now that she saw her parents' adoring eyes upon her. She was so relaxed that her eyes started to shutter, and she let out a yawn.

_Te amo y mas_

_Te amo y sabras que nadie como yo te amara_

**En esta canción yo veo quien soy**

By then, La Muerte and Xibalba were looking into each other's eyes lovingly, the dark god pulling his wife closer with his wing, still holding their baby in his arms, just close to his chest.

**Amor mas que amor es el mío y lo siento**

_Amor mas que amor es el tuyo y presiento_

**_Amor mas que amor sera el nuestro si tu me lo das_**

They concluded the song with their lips joining together in a tender kiss, recalling the times they had sung this song together since they were young. Marigold squealed in protest at seeing her mother and father being too 'affectionate' with each other, making both Xibalba and La Muerte laugh softly. However, soon Marigold let out a yawn and finally fell asleep, her head resting on her father's chest; she even took her thumb to her mouth and was suckling on it.

"Aww, look at that, _mi amor_." Xibalba smiled, stroking Marigold's cheek gingerly. "Isn't she a cutie?"

"She is." La Muerte replied before glancing up at her husband. "She got that from you."

Rolling his eyes with a playful grin, Xibalba glided to Marigold's cradle and tucker her in carefully so not to wake her so that he and his wife may have a few intimate moments. When he was certain she was safely tucked in, Xibalba returned to bed with La Muerte, and both pulled the other closer as much as possible.

"_Te amo_, mi corazón." Xibalba smiled down at his wife as he planted a kiss on her.

"_Yo también te amo, mi cielo_." La Muerte returned the smile.

The two gods went to sleep in each other's arms.


	6. Chapter 6

The 'Joys' of Parenthood

* * *

Another rough night.

Not long had passed since La Muerte and Xibalba went to bed, that Marigold started to cry yet again. It was the tenth time in a row that she did this to them, and they hadn't been able to get a decent sleep for a couple of days now. However, the two had a different to deal with their frustration and tiredness. La Muerte never let the stress spike her kind, loving and affectionate personality towards those around her, family or not. She treated her subjects with fairness and kindness, and was equally loving with her Balby and their baby. Xibalba, on the other hand, was known for turning especially irritable when he became too stressed, and often took it out on those unfortunate enough to be in his path. The only exceptions to this 'rule' were his darling wife La Muerte, and his newborn daughter.

This did not mean he liked to be awakened in the middle of the night.

"Your turn." Xibalba groaned to his wife as he hid his face into the pillow, just to be given a tug on his moustache.

"No, _señor_, Marigold wants _both_ her parents to go check up on her, so you're coming with me." La Muerte _dragged_ Xibalba out of bed, and all the way to the nursery despite his protests. She did not release his moustache until they were inside the baby's room. As Xibalba rubbed his sore cheek just beneath his moustache, La Muerte approached the bassinet and picked Marigold up in her arms.

"Sh-sh-sh, _ya, mi vida_." She cooed, bouncing Marigold in her arms and wiping her tears with her little blanket. "_Aquí está mamá_." When Marigold wouldn't stop crying, she had an idea to what she wanted. "Xibalba, I think she's hungry."

"Hungry? Well, mi amor, that's women's business, so if you don't mind…" Xibalba tried to go back to their chambers, but La Muerte frowned and closed the doors with a snap of her fingers. "Oh, come on, La Muerte! All I'm doing here is stand around without doing anything." Before he could say anything else, both gods noticed Marigold was reaching out for her father with one hand, whimpering and suckling her finger.

"See? She wants both her parents with her." La Muerte said as she sat down on the rocking chair and lowered the neckline of her nightgown to expose her left bosom; Xibalba couldn't help but shiver in delight as he approached his wife and daughter, in case they needed anything. Marigold caught the familiar scent of breast milk, and it wasn't long before her lips latched unto the nipple of her mother's bosom and she started suckling hungrily.

"She was hungry." La Muerte sighed, beaming down at her child as she fed, stroking her little head.

"Isn't she a cutie when she eats?" Xibalba chuckled, kneeling down in front of the rocking chair and holding La Muerte's hand. All the while his eyes didn't leave Marigold's little body. When he went to stroke her cheek, she grasped his finger tightly.

"And you were complaining that you had nothing to do." La Muerte teased, accommodating Marigold in her arms carefully.

"I know. Thanks for rubbing it in my face, my dear." Xibalba sighed. As he was about to stand up and move a bit away from his wife, Marigold's grip on his finger tightened and she sobbed, though she continued to suckle. He tried again, with the same results.

"Looks like you won't be going anywhere anytime soon, Balby." La Muerte giggled.

"Oh, well. I guess I can stand a few more minutes awake for her." he simply replied.

A few minute later, Marigold released her mother's nipple and started licking the remaining milk on her lips. However, soon her face crunched up as she wiggled in her mother's embrace.

Xibalba knew what was coming. "La Muerte, mind if I take care of this?"

"What do you mean, Xibalba?"

"Trust me, mi amor."

Seeing how Marigold was reaching out for her papi's arms anyway, La Muerte handed her over to Xibalba. He held Marigold against his chest so that her little head was over his shoulder. Marigold squirmed when Xibalba started patting her back firmly, just between the joints where her wings were connected to her back; he continued to do this for a while until she let out a small burp, making La Muerte and Xibalba laugh softly…

**BRLAP!**

Xibalba froze when Marigold vomited unto his back, staining his purple bathrobe with milky vomit. La Muerte took a hand to her lips, but she failed to contained the giggle that escaped them; Marigold apparently found it funny too, considering she started to laugh too while clapping her little hands.

"Very funny." Xibalba grumbled under his breath as he handed Marigold over to La Muerte so he could take off his bathrobe, exposing his torso and chest. La Muerte gasped and covered Marigold's eyes.

"Xibalba! Don't get nude in front of the baby!"

"Nude? Come on, La Muerte! I can't wear a vomited bathrobe for something as insignificant as that!"

"I don't want Marigold to see her father naked!"

"She won't even remember anything in a few years!"

Before they could argue any further, they felt an awful smell. La Muerte looked down at Marigold, and noticed her diaper was a bit bulged out. Xibalba groaned in dismay. "Oh, no. Not at this hour."

La Muerte ignored him and stood up from the rocking chair to float towards the changing table. "Aww, baby-boo needs some changing, don't you? Don't you?" she chimed as she nuzzled Marigold's tummy, making her giggle and wiggle. The Goddess gently lay her daughter onto the changing table and took off her pajamas. However, Marigold didn't the sudden feeling of cold, and started to cry.

Xibalba approached his wife from behind to see what she was doing, but as soon as she started to cry he panicked and looked around for something he could use to entertain her. La Muerte, meanwhile, tried to hold her in place gently. "Sh-sh-sh, it's okay, Marigold. _Mami_'s just going to change your diaper."

"Marigold! Look at this, _mi florecita_!" Xibalba went back to the changing table and started shaking Marigold's snake rattle above her little head; instantly, that caught her attention. "Yes, I know you like it, _mi florecita_." Xibalba chuckled as Marigold giggled and reached out for the rattle."

"Entertain her while I change her diaper, would you, Balby?" La Muerte asked, giggling at the sight.

"No problem, _mi corazón_."

Marigold was so entertained with the rattle she no longer mined about the cold air against her body, and didn't even mind her mother changing her diaper. Xibalba smiled down at his daughter when she finally managed to grasp the rattle and tried to take it from him. However, his delight disappeared when La Muerte handed him over the dirty diaper.

"Babies sure take a lot of handling…" he protested, reluctantly taking the dirty diaper with one hand and leaving the rattle to Marigold, gliding over to the garbage can to get rid of it… But then he remembered he hadn't settled a matter with Xochiquétzal. Xibalba glanced back at his wife; she was so immersed in changing Marigold's diaper that she wouldn't notice… right? With a malicious grin, Xibalba was about to snap his fingers…

"Don't even think about, Xibalba."

Xibalba yelped in surprise and he quickly dropped the diaper into the garbage can. Damn it, how did she know?! Definitely, she knew him more than even Zipacna. La Muerte finally dressed Marigold back into her pajamas and lifted her from the changing table. However, she started to sob once again.

"Oh, _por todos los cielos_!" Xibalba groaned in dismay as he smacked his forehead. "What's wrong now?!" Unfortunately, his outburst frightened Marigold and she now wailed at full volume.

"Xibalba!" La Muerte snapped at her husband before turning her attention to her baby. "Oh, don't mind _papi_. He's just grumpy because he's a sleepy-head. _No llores, mi vida_." Marigold snuggled into her mother's embrace, but she was still sobbing.

"No, no, no! I'm sorry, mi florecita, I didn't mean to yell at you." Xibalba borrowed Marigold back from her mother and bounced her in his arms. "Sh-sh-sh."

"She's tired, Xibalba. She wants to sleep as much as you." La Muerte sighed. "I'll go for her pacifier, it might help her fall asleep."

"Is it in our room?"

"Well, I asked _someone_ to bring it, but he was too busy sending pranking notes to Xochiquétzal." La Muerte rolled her eyes at her husband, before heading for the door. "I'll be right back."

Marigold reached out her arms for her mother as soon as she was out of sight, continuing with her wailing. Xibalba cooed at her and bounced her in his arms, holding her little head against his chest gingerly. Maybe a nursery rhyme or a mini lullaby would do the trick while La Muerte brought that pacifier…

"Hey, Marigold…" Xibalba whispered to his daughter softly. "Listen to this…"

**Esta niña linda**

**Se quiere dormir **

**Tiéndale su cama**

**En el toronjil**

Marigold's cries grew louder. Nope, she didn't like that one. Luckily he knew a few more nursery rhymes (it was not that he liked them that much, but unfortunately La Muerte had imprinted them into his brain after singing for nine months it a row). "No? Well, how about this one…?"

**Duérmete niña, duérmete ya**

**Que mientras tanto te canta papá**

**Los pajaritos duermen también**

**Mientras sus padres buscan de comer**

No results. Xibalba sighed. Hard public, huh? He didn't want to sing all the nursery rhymes he knew until he found one that she liked. This was of the reasons why he didn't like nursery rhymes. He recalled another one, longer than the other two, but he was growing desperate to go back to bed. This would be his last attempt. Cradling Marigold further into his embrace, Xibalba rocked her back and forth as he started to sing one more tie.

**Arrorró mi niña**

**Arrorró mi sol**

**Arrorró pedazo **

**De mi corazón**

This time, Marigold's crying started to diminish. She started to hiccup at the same tie she sobbed; Xibalba wiped her tiny tears with the tip of her blanket, and stroked her cheek tenderly.

**Esta niña linda ya quiere dormir**

**Haganle la cuna de rosa y jazmín**

**Haganle la cama en el toronkil**

**Y en la cabecera ponganle un jazmín**

**Que con su fragancia me la haga dormir.**

Marigold's puffy eyes started to shutter as she reached out to touch her father's cheek. Xibalba couldn't help but smile at this, and he responded by taking her tiny hand into his larger, skeletal one.

**Esta leche linda que le traigo aquí**

**Es para esta niña que se va a dormir**

**Esta linda niña se quiere dormir **

**Cierra los ojitos y los vuelve a abrir. **

Xibalba kept rocking Marigold back and forth, but started to bounce her. He found her adorable in times like this.

**Arrorró mi niña**

**Arrorró mi sol**

**Duérmase pedazo**

**De mi corazón**

Marigold's eyelids closed and she snuggled into her father's embrace, snoring lightly. Xibalba stroked her cheek tenderly, looking down at his baby adoringly. A giggle came from the doorway; he turned around to find La Muerte leaning against the door with a hand to her lips and an amused expression on her face. In her other hand she had the famous pacifier. "Looks like you managed to handle the situation on your own."

"More or less, _mi amor_." Xibalba replied gently.

La Muerte approached her husband and daughter, and lowered the pacifier to Marigold's lips, which she instantly suckled on before continuing with her slumber. La Muerte smiled and kissed her cheek gingerly. "_Que sueñes con los angelitos, mi bebé_."

Xibalba's lips peppered Marigold's forehead and he brushed a hair from her face. "_Que descanses_, Marigold." With this, he lay the baby down on the bassinet and tucked her in carefully. Marigold shifted under the covers.

Xibalba and La Muerte watched her sleep for a while, before the dark god spoke. "Can we go back to bed now?"


	7. Chapter 7

First Word

* * *

_It was very late. The Land of the Living, at least that part of the world, was practically empty for the day (or rather, night). The Mayan people were going back into their huts to spend the night, as to avoid the ire of the Gods of the night and the demons that came out with them. This particular village was in the middle of a small island, which in turn was in the middle of a great lake, and yet again this lake was in the middle of a dense jungle._

_In one smaller island near the main island, connecting it with the mainland through a crude bridge, lay a spirit. It was very young, one may have confused her with an eight year old girl. Her skin was made of sugar candy, and flowing, waving black hair tied with a black ribbon cascaded from her head and nearly reached the floor. Two marigold flowers were adorning both sides of her forehead, accommodated into her hair. She wore a long dress with a sleeveless white bodice and red skirt that hid her legs from view. The skirt was adorned with golden lining, and the top of the bodice had more marigolds adorning it. The child's face had little make-up, with a bit of red lipstick, but her eyes were shaded in a deep blue, contrasting her generally bright appearance. Her eyes were a bright orange-yellow, just like the marigolds adorning her head and dress. A small coronet of red candles burning brightly pulled back strands of her hair. _

_She knew coming to the Land of the Living was strictly forbidden without permission, but she couldn't help it. This place was beautiful, with starry sky, beautiful plants, but overall, the humans. She was curious about them, she'd hear the older Gods talk about them, but she'd never directly interacted with them. _

_A sound behind her startled her. The little Goddess whipped around towards the jungle, looking for its source. It was very dark, and she couldn't see anything through the trees except for a green glow…_

_Wait, green glow?_

_"__Hello?" the girl called out. "Is anyone there?"_

_Suddenly, a purple snake with two heads slithered from the jungle and approached her curiously. The child quickly stepped back in fright, her little heart throbbing in her chest. _

_"__Ponzoña, get back here!" another voice was calling out for someone, and the child's terror increased when yet another young god ran into her from the trees, stopping in his tracks when he spotted her. _

_This different spirit was a little older than her, about 10 years old. He was the complete opposite of the young goddess. His skin was black and made of tar, with green flesh underneath his ribcage and connected to his robe-like cloak. A small white crown rested upon his head, with two swirly horns with two hanging skulls and four black candles burning with green fire. His eyes glowed green with two skull-shaped red irises staring at her in a mixture of surprise, shock and shyness, bushy and gray-colored eyebrows raised in curiosity. But the astonishing thing about him was that he had wings. No spirit that she knew had them. These were black-colored, feathered wings that were close to his body. _

_The snake stopped a few steps away from her, and both heads glanced back at the boy. He was frozen in fear, staring at her like he had seen a ghost. The girl approached him warily, but stopped when he gave a step back; she noticed that his cheeks had turned a dark red. He was blushing. _

_"__Is he yours?" she inquired._

_The boy simply nodded his head slowly. "D-Don't worry, he's h-harmless." He stuttered. The snake named Ponzoña slithered up his owner's cloak and around his arm, staring at the girl curiously. The young goddess tried to think of something more to say. _

_"__What's your name?" she inquired. _

_"__X-Xibalba…" the boy replied, still trembling nervously. _

_Xibalba… she had heard about him. He was the younger son of Akrinok, the ruler of the Land of the Forgotten. The other young gods and goddesses never liked to be around him, from what she'd heard. They found him scary, and they didn't like his father. _

_"__I'm La Muerte." The girl introduced herself, hoping it would break the ice. She stared at the snake with a spark of curiosity. "He's your pet?"_

_"__Actually, he's the only friend I have…Other than my big brother" Xibalba finally managed to speak without stuttering, but there was a twinge of sadness in his voice. He noticed the delight look on La Muerte's face. "He knows a trick. Would you like to see?" when La Muerte nodded eagerly, he turned to his snake. "Ponzoña, freeze!" _

_Immediately, the snake unfurled from Xibalba's arm and fell to the ground, straightening its body completely and glowing purple for a moment before remaining still, like a stick. _

_"__See?" Xibalba smiled a little, picking up the oversized snake-turned-staff from the ground. "He won't move until I tell him to, so it's okay." _

_"__Why does he have two heads? Where did you get him?" La Muerte inquired. _

_"__He's been with me ever since I was a baby." He decided to change the subject. "What are you doing here, by the way?"_

_"__I was just looking for some humans." La Muerte replied, pointing towards the village. _

_"__Why? They're nothing but a bunch of losers."_

_"__Why do you say that?"_

_"__That's what my father says." Xibalba trembled at the mention of his father. "He says humans are all evil and should be forgotten when they perish." _

_"__Not all humans can be bad. I think there must be good humans."_

_"__Well, I have not seen any." _

_La Muerte approached Xibalba once more, entranced by his wings. The latter noticed and jerked back a wing when she tried to touch it._

_"__What are you doing?" he blushed._

_"__Are they real?" La Muerte inquired, pointing at his wings. _

_"__I guess so, I was born with them."_

_"__Can I touch them?" _

_Xibalba looked at her in surprise. "Why?"_

_"__I'm curious." She gave him a pleading look. "Please?" _

_Gulping, Xibalba extended out his wings for her to touch. La Muerte ran her fingers through the feathers curiously, making Xibalba shiver in delight, and she could swear he even blushed through his tar-like skin. _

_"__They're very ticklish." She giggled, fidgeting with the feathers. _

_"__Yeah." Xibalba retracted his wing. _

_La Muerte glanced at the village cross the bridge, and a grin spread across her features. "Hey, do you want to go to the village?" _

_Xibalba glanced towards the huts. "There? Where the humans live?" _

_"__Yeah. You said you wanted to meet some humans, didn't you?"_

_"__Yeah, but-"_

_"__What's wrong?" La Muerte teased him with a grin. "Are you afraid?"_

_"__Me?" Now it was Xibalba's turn to cross his arms. "I'm not afraid of anything!"_

_"__Then let's go!"_

_With those last words, La Muerte took Xibalba's hand and dragged him towards the village._

* * *

Squeals and coos of delight filled the night air as nine month-old Marigold looked around the unfamiliar place from her mother's embrace. La Muerte and Xibalba had decided to come to the Land of the Living and show Marigold the place where they met, even though she was too young and wouldn't probably remember it; and what better way to do so than nocturne picnic? The family sat upon a golden mantle with black trimming and a few red birds on the corners. Marigold was trying to get free from her mother's embrace so she could crawl towards the basket of _churros_.

"I'm sorry, Marigold, but you're too young to eat churros." La Muerte lifted Marigold back into her lap; Marigold squealed in protest and tried to release herself from her mother's grasp.

"She had to get my sweet tooth." Xibalba sighed, taking a bit from a churro while looking at his wiggling child.

"I told you not to bring churros to begin with."

"What's a picnic without churros?"

La Muerte rolled her eyes and looked down at Marigold when she started to sob. She sure was stubborn, like her father, all for a bunch of churros. They had brought food such as _tacos_, _empanadas_, _chimichangas_, and other treats, but Marigold was just obsessed with the churros.

"Come on, _mi amor_, I don't think one churro will kill her." Xibalba stated, watching in amusement as his daughter squealed in protest.

"Xibalba, you know too much sugar is not good for kids!" La Muerte scolded him mildly, instead taking a small piece of mango. "Look, Marigold, here's some tasty fruit."

While Marigold usually rejected fruit or anything 'healthy' (in part thanks to her father ever since he would often give her sweets when her mother was not watching), she would never reject anything that her mami gave her. She made no protest as her mother fed her small pieces of mango.

"I can't believe you can give her fruit so easily while it takes **me** hours of pleading and begging." Xibalba chuckled, temporally setting aside his plate with pork and _frijol_ to watch in amusement as his wife wiped the mango juice from their daughter's lips.

"It's not that hard, you just have to show her that it's safe to eat." La Muerte replied simply, placing the now-empty plate of fruit aside and cradling Marigold in her embrace. "Aww, you're such a cutie, yes you are! Yes you are!"

Marigold giggled when her mother started tickling her belly playfully, flapping her still-small wings, holding unto La Muerte's locks of black hair. Soon, her attention was caught by something else; a butterfly of orange, white and black colors was fluttering down from the tree, attracted by the scent of the mango juice. When the butterfly landed on Marigold's cheek, she started to cry, scaring the butterfly into the air again.

"Aww, don't be afraid, _chiquita_." La Muerte giggled as she cradled her child in her arms once more and wiped her tears with her thumb. "It's only a butterfly, they're harmless." The goddess allowed the butterfly to land on her hand, and then lowered it to Marigold's face; Marigold hid her face into her mother's chest.

"One is not dangerous, _mi amor_, but a bunch can be a nuisance." Xibalba sighed, taking a sip from his wine.

Marigold took a peek to the butterfly from her mother's chest, and watched as the little critter crawled down La Muerte's finger, fluttering its wings. She made no protest as the butterfly fluttered to her cheek and started 'licking' the mango from around her lips; Marigold giggled and wiggled in her mother's arms.

"Awww, Balby, look." La Muerte smiled. "Isn't she a cutie?"

Xibalba couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "I'm glad she's got your talent with animals, my dear."

"Me? You have more pets than I do, Balby. And they adore you."

Ponzoña slithered up his master's arm and rubbed his heads against it affectionately, making Xibalba blush a bit. "Well, I do admit that I have a bit of a talent with animals too… But I'm not good with _all_ animals, like you."

Marigold giggled again when the butterfly moved unto her nose, and reached out to catch it, but it fluttered away, above her face. Xibalba smiled and temporally borrowed his daughter from La Muerte's embrace, watching as she reached out her hands for the butterfly as it flew away. "Don't worry, mi florecita, there'll be more butterflies later. Or rather, fireflies." Marigold looked up at her father, and gurgled tiny bubbles from her own saliva to try and make her father smile.

La Muerte giggled at the scene as Xibalba wiped Marigold's lips with a napkin, but smacked his hand when he was about to take a churro.

"What?"

"What did I say about churros, Xibalba?" La Muerte frowned at him.

Xibalba sighed in dismay. "Okay, mi amor. I promise you, I'm not giving her any _churros_." He looked down at his daughter apologetically. "Sorry, _mi florecita_."

Marigold wiggled in her father's arms, squealing in discomfort, until she caught sight of the same butterfly as before returning, bringing even more with it. The young goddess giggled when they fluttered around, occasionally landing on her face to lick her skin. La Muerte watched in delight as their child tried to catch the butterflies fluttering above her head; Xibalba chuckled at the scene, until one of the butterflies landed on his moustache. La Muerte giggled.

"That butterfly likes you."

"Well, I don't." Xibalba muttered, blowing at his moustache to scare the butterfly away, but this only caused more butterflies to flutter towards his moustaches. This time, not even Marigold could contain a giggle, though the dark god didn't find this funny at all. "Very funny, you two."

"At least they're not birds." La Muerte smiled as she shifted closer to her husband. "They would have pooped on you like that time we were here."

"Don't remind me." Xibalba sighed, but nevertheless he pulled his wife closer with his wing. "You're lucky you didn't smell like bird poop for an entire week."

The goddess giggled and shifted closer to him, snuggling against him. "I love you, Balby."

Xibalba smiled and embraced his wife with his wing. "I love you more, _mi amor_."

"Bawbiiii…"

!

Both Xibalba and La Muerte looked down at their daughter in surprise and bewilderment. Had they heard what they thought they heard? Marigold was squirming in her father's hold, staring up at her parents curiously, the butterflies long gone. "Bawbii…" she repeated, not really knowing what that word meant, simply parroting it because she thought it was funny.

"M-Marigold…?" Xibalba couldn't believe what he was hearing. She had actually… After days of trying to get her to say 'papa', when she would simply stare at him in confusion and curiosity, she had finally…

"Aww, _mi niñita hermosa_!" La Muerte was the first to react by taking Marigold back from Xibalba and holding her close, tickling he nose to make her laugh. "Could you say that again for mami?"

"Bawbiii…" Marigold repeated, now realizing her mamá liked when she did that. "Bawbiii…!" she giggled when her mother peppered butterfly kisses on her cheek.

"It's her first word, Xibalba! She said her first word!"

Xibalba was staring down at his baby in bewilderment and joyous happiness. Not only because he had heard her utter her very first word, but also because what it had been. Reaching out his hand to take his _pequeña's_ tiny one, he felt the same warm feeling in his chest when Marigold's little fingers grasped unto his own, the little eyes that could make his withered heart beat glued unto him.

"Bawbiii…" Marigold repeated for the fifth time, but this time it felt like she was directing it to her father. "Bawbiii…"

"_Mi florecita_…" Xibalba's lips curved into a smile as he bent down and planted a kiss on his baby's forehead; Marigold giggled and her hand now clasped his moutache playfully, tugging on it gingerly.

"She loves you, Balby." La Muerte smiled as she handed her daughter over to the tar god.

Marigold changed her attention to her mother and gave her a toothless grin. "Ma…. Ma…"

Xibalba's heart warmed even more upon noticing his wife's eyes lit up when their child attempting to call for her; unfortunately, Marigold's little eyes started to shutter and she rested her head against her father's chest, soothed by his heartbeat.

"She loves you too, mi corazón."

La Muerte and Xibalba cuddled against each other, watching adoringly as their baby dreamed the night away.


	8. Chapter 8

Rattles

For her first birthday, Xibalba gave his daughter a purple snake plush with black stripes and buttons for eyes, with a pink tongue sewn at the 'mouth', which he referred to as Rattles. It made rattling sounds when squeezed or shook. Marigold adored it since the first moment, and she spent nearly all of her birthday party nibbling unto the plush, giggling everytime it rattled.

Ever since, she always wanted Rattles close to her, and cried when she lost sight of it. This was a bit of a problem when it was bath time, or when the plush became too dirty and needed washing; Marigold cried hysterically until the plush was returned to her. Though she had been given lots of gifts in her birthday, Rattles was the center of her attention. This made Xibalba happy.

He had insomnia again. He just couldn't sleep. La Muerte had no such problem, she was snuggled against him, her waves of dark hair all across the sheets, covering part of his chest. He was holding her close with an arm, running his fingers through her dark hair. But it was Marigold he was thinking about. Lately, Xibalba couldn't stand being far from his daughter, he wanted to cuddle her all the time. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a small peek at her, just to make sure she was okay.

Carefully, Xibalba removed his arm from beneath La Muerte and stood from bed, pulling up the sheets to cover her. Donning his purple bathrobe, Xibalba then silently opened the door and slid out, closing it again behind him; he glided through the hall to the next door, the nursery. The dark god turned the knob of the door and took a peek inside. They had changed Marigold's cradle for a crib, something the she didn't like very much. She missed her cradle the first weeks, and made them know by wailing nonstop all night. Right now, however, she was sleeping peacefully.

Xibalba closed the door behind him and tip-toed to the edge of the crib to see what his little one was doing. Marigold was fast asleep, suckling unto her pacifier and gripping on Rattles tightly. He couldn't help but smile when she shifted in her sleep, letting out the most adorable coos he ever heard. She was still as adorable as the day she was born. He remembered he thought she was a little angel, wrapped in pink, safe and warm. She was such a tiny thing…

Carefully, Xibalba bent down and picked his daughter up, taking her in his arms and holding her close to his chest, cuddling her like the tiny miracle she was, planting a kiss on her forehead. However, Rattles slipped from her fingers and back on the cradle; immediately, she started to cry. Xibalba panicked.

"Nonono!" he whispered in low voice, bouncing her desperately. "You'll wake your mother up!"

He quickly picked Rattles from the crib and shook it over Marigold's head; recognizing the sound of her plush, Marigold reached out her little hands for it and gurgled in annoyance, trying to reach Rattles. Xibalba chuckled as he let his daughter take the plush.

"Dadlees…." She gurgled happily.

"Aww, you're such a cutie when you're happy, _mi florecita_." Xibalba smiled, sitting on the rocking chair at the side of the crib and watching as Marigold tried to make Rattles rattle. "Just look at you, with your little eyes… Do you have hypnotic powers or something, sweetie? Because I can't stop looking at you."

Marigold just stared at her father with wide, curious eyes. He just couldn't understand how this innocent little baby, _his_ little baby, didn't fear him. He was accustomed to being feared, he had been feared for most of his life, after all. In fact, Xibalba had been afraid his children would fear him if he and La Muerte ever had any. Yet, he was eternally grateful that this wasn't the case.

He'd never forget how she had smiled at him the first time she saw him, when he'd been freaking out that she'd cry. His heart had leapt out with joy when she reached out her tiny fingers up to his face. And to think he hadn't been fond of children.

Xibalba grew a little sad. After losing their first child, he wanted nothing more to do with children, it reminded him of the baby he lost, and the family he would never have (he'd heard Xochiquétzal's claims that after what happened, neither he or La Muerte would be able co conceive again). La Muerte, on the other hand, became especially sweet and kind with children, often treating them like they were her own, like a way to soothe the pain and fill the void the death of her baby left.

Xibalba had to admit, when he and La Muerte discovered she was pregnant for a second time he was afraid, afraid the tragedy would repeat again. But as he felt Marigold's little _pataditas_ inside the darkness of his wife's tummy, his fear started dissipating.

Marigold started fidgeting with her father's beard, gurgling and pulling it gingerly, kicking the air. Xibalba chuckled and tickled her nose, his heart warming upon hearing her giggles as she tried to catch his finger.

"Ay, Balby, you can't let Marigold sleep at least one night?"

Xibalba startled when he heard his wife's voice, and found La Muerte standing in the doorway, giggling at the sight. "Well, I was just…" he sighed. "Sorry, my dear, I just can't help it… she's so adorable!"

Marigold sobbed when her father's attention went to someone else, and she started to cry. Naturally, her father panicked and bounced her in his arms gently.

**Arroro mi niña**

**Arroro mi sol**

**Arrorro pedazo**

**De mi corazón**

Thankfully, Marigold stopped crying and looked up at her father with glossy eyes. Xibalba smiled and started stroking her lips with his finger, making her respond by nibbling on it. "Aww, mi florecita… You're so cute."

La Muerte rolled her eye with a grin and approached the rocking chair, while Xibalba kept fussing over his daughter.

"Just look at her little eyes, _mi amor_..." he cooed. "I can't stop looking at her… I think she's hypnotized me."

La Muerte giggled. "Hypnotizing powers? Don't you think that's a little exaggerate? She's just one year old."

"Why not? She's _my_ daughter, after all."

"_Our_ daughter, remember? I brought her into the world." La Muerte retorted matter-of-factly.

"Maybe, but she loves me more."

"You'd wish, Xibalba. Anyone with common sense knows that children have more affections for their mothers."

"You want to bet?" Xibalba grinned

"Bet?" La Muerte repeated. "You want to bet on your own daughter?!"

"Nonono, mi amor! I'd call it a test, if it makes you feel better."

"What do you have in mind?"

With a confident grin, Xibalba stood from the rocking chair towards the center of the nursery, and placed Marigold down.

"It's quite simple, my dear. You go to one side, I go to the other. Then we call Marigold and see who she goes to, that way we'll know who she loves more."

La Muerte grinned confidently; she was certain her daughter would choose her. "You're no."

Immediately, a 'war' started between the two as they tried to coax their daughter to go to them. Marigold just glanced back and forth between her mother and father, confused.

"Marigold, _ven con papá_!" Xibalba called out for her, holding out his arms for her.

"_Ven con mami_, pequeña!" La Muerte chirped at her baby.

Minutes passed, and Marigold remained insecure as to which of the two choose. However, a purple spot caught her attention. Rattles lay forgotten on the floor, right next to the rocking chair. La Muerte and Xibalba grew confused when their daughter crawled in another direction, only to realize she was crawling towards her snake plush. Marigold grabbed unto Rattles and gurgled happily, nibbling unto its head.

Xibalba's jaw dropped to the ground, literally.

La Muerte stared at her baby for a few seconds, bewildered, until she broke out in laughter as she stood up and picked her up. Marigold snuggled into her mother's warm embrace, holding Rattles in her little hands.

"I can't believe it!" Xibalba whined as he stood up and crossed his arms with a hurt expression. "My own daughter prefers a plush over me!"

"Don't take it so seriously, Balby, she's just a baby." La Muerte replied softly, smiling down at Marigold.

"I shouldn't have given her that silly doll in the first place." The dark god pouted, looking away.

"Daddles…" Marigold blurted out, hugging her snake.

"Come on, Xibalba. It's not that bad." La Muerte rolled her eyes.

"How can you be so calm about it?"

"It's just a plush, you shouldn't be jealous of an inanimate object."

Marigold had no idea why her parents were bickering, but she didn't like it. She started to sob, wriggling in her mother's arms and starting to cry.

"Sh-sh-sh. _Ya, ya_, it's okay, _pequeña_. Mami's here." La Muerte planted a kiss on her daughter's head, before bouncing her gently.

"Papa…" Marigold reached out her little arms for her father.

"See? She loves you."

Xibalba tried to ignore his daughter's cries, but it was breaking his heart. Damn it, just like her mother, she had him wrapped around her finger. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and teleported to his wife's side to take their daughter from her. Marigold snuggled into his embrace and hid her face into his chest, satisfied.

"Oh, well, I can't stay mad at you for long, can I?" Xibalba sighed, accommodating his baby.

"Besides, if she likes her doll so much it's because _you_ gave it to her." La Muerte smiled, placing her hands on his shoulder.

"You think so?"

"Of course, remember that everyone gave her much better gifts but she didn't even glance at them, she spent the whole party playing with that stuffed snake."

Marigold let out a yawn, and rested her head against her father's chest one more time, falling asleep shortly after. Xibalba couldn't help but smile a bit at the sight.

"We should let her sleep, Balby." La Muerte whispered into her husband's ear.

He sighed in disappointment, but his daughter needed rest. "I know." Before handing over to her mother, he kissed her little head and stroked her cheek.

La Muerte carefully lay Marigold back in the crib, tucked her in and planted a kiss on her forehead. "_Que sueñes con los angelitos_, _pequeña_."

As her parents went back to sleep, Marigold shifted in her sleep, pulling Rattles closer to her.

"Mama… Papa…"


	9. Chapter 9

Cold.

* * *

Well, now this suck.

Who would have thought Gods could get sick? Well, they could, as incredible as it seemed, as everyone found out soon. It all started with constant headaches and fainting spells, but then it escalated into fever and fatigue. Soon, La Muerte was confined to her bed; Gods didn't die from illness, but it was very uncomfortable and frustrating. Being stuck in bed all day on bed while hearing her subjects partying outside sure made her feel left out, but it was her health they were talking about, so she complied with no complaint.

Naturally, Xibalba was quite scandalous once he learned the love of his life was sick; as soon as he learned of her sickness, he stayed with her all day (except when Marigold needed him), keeping her company and constantly asking her if she didn't need anything. On one occasion, he gently took her hand and spoke sweetly to her. But what La Muerte disliked about being sick was that she couldn't see her daughter, in fear of spreading her illness unto her.

Little four year-old Marigold didn't understand why she wasn't allowed to go into her mother's chambers anymore, her father simply told her that she was ill and she had to rest. Marigold didn't like when her mami was sick. Before, her mother would always come to tuck her in at night and sing her a lullaby, but now it was her father who came at night; it was not she didn't like when her father came to spend the night with her, she missed her mother. Xibalba himself missed cuddling with his wife at night, but she stated it was risky, she didn't want to get him sick too.

"What's wrong with mami, papi?" she asked one night as her father tucked her in.

"Nothing's wrong with your mami, mi florecita." Xibalba replied softly, pulling up the sheets to cover Marigold's little body. "She's just feeling ill, but she'll be better in a few days, you'll see."

"When will I be able to see her? I miss her."

"I know, Marigold, I know, but…" Xibalba sighed. "Mami doesn't want you to get ill too, you are just a girl and your defenses are still developing." He lifted his daughter's chin to look into her eyes. "She misses you very much too, and she promised that she'd spend all day with you once she gets better. Does that sound good?"

Marigold thought for a moment, before nodding her head. "Okay." Her eyes were starting to shutter.

Xibalba smiled as he planted a kiss on Marigold's forehead. "_Buenas noches_, _mi pequeña_."

"_Buenas noches_, papi…"

When Marigold fell asleep, Xibalba watched her rest for a while, brushing a few hairs from her face. A few minutes later, he stood up from bed and walked out of his daughter's chambers, then walked down the colorful, illuminated hall to his wife's room.

La Muerte was reading a book when she heard her husband coming in. Her hair was sticking out in all directions, her eyes looked tired despite being in bed for most of the time. Still, in his eyes she was still as beautiful as when she was healthy and happy. When she heard Xibalba coming in, La Muerte lifted her gaze towards him. "How's Marigold doing, Balby?"

"Missing you, my dear." He sighed sadly as he sat down next to her in the bed, and placed his hand upon hers. "How are you feeling?"

"I've been better..." La Muerte started coughing, making the dark god grow alarmed.

"Are you certain you don't need anything, _mi amor_?" Xibalba whispered, stroking his wife's cheek with his hand. "Some tea, perhaps?"

"I'm okay, Xibalba, I'm just tired, that's all."

La Muerte didn't protest as Xibalba lifted up the sheets to cover her, in case she wasn't receiving enough warmth. The dark god then rested next to his wife and pulled her closer into an embrace, wrapping his wings around her. La Muerte immediately tried to pull back.

"Xibalba-"

"Sh-sh-sh. I'll be fine, _mi corazón_." Xibalba whispered tenderly as he stroked her cheek. "Don't worry for me, all that matters now is that you get better."

Knowing it was futile to argue, La Muerte sighed and allowed her husband to continue fussing over her. "You know what this reminds me of? When we were kids, and you'd climb unto my room when I was too ill to get out of bed."

Xibalba chuckled. "I'd bring you some flowers to make you feel better. Usually marigolds and roses."

"On one occasion my father caught you, remember? He was very upset, I still remember the sermon he gave me about having boys in my room." La Muerte couldn't help but giggle, but she started coughing again. Xibalba's hold on her tightened.

"I insist, _mi amor_, a warm tea would do good…"

"Ay, Balby, you're always worrying over nothing."

"I just want you to be comfortable, _preciosa_. You need to rest."

La Muerte snuggled into her husband's embrace, feeling his gloved hand run down her shoulder, his wing fanning her a bit. She stirred when her body started to ache, until she heard something. Xibalba started humming, the same tune La Muerte would hum for him back in their childhood days to comfort him; it was time to return the favor. He hummed, lulling his wife to sleep, until he was certain she had fallen asleep. However, he did not move away. He planted a kiss on her forehead, and cuddled next to her. Surely, it wouldn't hurt to sleep with her this time, just to keep her warm enough.

That, and his back was starting to ache from sleeping on the couch.

* * *

The next morning, La Muerte had fever. Xibalba panicked instantly, when he checked on her temperature and found she was boiling hot. He had cloths and a bowl of cool water brought to the room, so he could take care of his wife. So, he spent all morning placing wet cloths on her forehead to try and lower her temperature. La Muerte was shivering; she may be hot, but she felt horribly cold.

Marigold knew something was wrong when her father didn't come to wake her up in the morning, but she didn't dare go to her mother's chambers to see what was going on. She felt like it would be against her mami's wishes, but this didn't mean she wasn't worried. Finally, when she couldn't stand it anymore, Marigold stood up from bed and walked out of her room, then down the hall. She waved her hand at the passerby servants naturally, trying not to lift any suspects, until she came to the familiar doors. It was slightly open, so she managed to get a peek inside.

Xibalba removed one of his gloves and placed a hand on La Muerte's forehead, but her temperature was only slightly better, and she kept shivering. Putting his glove back on, he took another cloth and submerged it into the bowl of cold water.

"I'm cold, Balby…" La Muerte whimpered, shifting under her covers.

"Shh, don't worry, my love. You'll be alright." Xibalba whispered, squeezing the cloth over the bowl and then placing it on his wife's forehead. "Would you like something to eat?"

"I'm a bit hungry, not that you mention it…"

"I guessed so, you have not eaten since yesterday, remember?"

"It's not my fault my stomach was all stubborn yesterday."

Xibalba chuckled as he planted a kiss on his wife's head. "I'll be right back."

Outside, Marigold quickly panicked and looked for a place to hide; she chose to do so under one of the nearby wooden tables which had decorative jars stuffed with colorful flowers. She caught a glimpse of her father's cloak as he walked out of the chambers, and glided down the hall. When she was certain her father was out of earshot, Marigold tip-toed to the door, wondering if she should go inside or not. She wanted to see her mother so badly, but she didn't want to upset her in this state.

In the end, her natural need to be close to her mami won.

Gulping, Marigold snuck into the room, trying not to make any noise, then tip-toed to the bed. She was hesitant, but eventually she whispered. "Mami?"

La Muerte was surprised to hear her daughter's little voice, and found her tip-toing cautiously towards the bed. "Marigold…?" she let out a small cough. "…Is something wrong, _chiquita_?"

Marigold shivered internally when she saw her mother in this state. Her eyes were tired, she looked paler, even though white was the natural color of her sugary skin, and her dark waves spread out across the bed just made it worse. "Are you getting better?"

La Muerte smiled kindly, her eyes softening. She lifted a hand and grasped her daughter's gently. "I feel a little better now that you're here, _mi niña_."

"When will you get better?" Marigold asks, her uncertainty disappearing, now approaching her mother's side.

"I'm not sure, sweetie."

"Soon, right?"

"I hope so…" La Muerte started coughing again, she quickly took a napkin to her mouth to prevent the virus to spread to her baby.

Marigold couldn't help it anymore, and she climbed unto the bed to cuddle next to her mother, resting on top of her hair. Curiously, Marigold had always found her mother's hair as a good place to sleep ever since she was a baby; La Muerte could recall when she was three months old, and she'd often hide in her hair. La Muerte didn't have the heart to shoo her little one away, she instead embraced Marigold with an arm.

"I miss you, mami…" Marigold sobbed, snuggling deeper into her mother's embrace.

"I missed you too, _mi vida_…" La Muerte cooed, kissing her head. "Don't cry…"

"What if you don't get better, mami?"

"No, no, no, Marigold, I will get better."

"You promise?"

La Muerte stroked Marigold's cheek softly. "I promise, _mi bebé_."

La Muerte pulled her daughter into her arms, letting her collapse against her chest as if she was a baby again. Her soothing heartbeat is enough to soothe her. Then she started to hum their little song; Marigold always cherished these moments with her mother. Soon, the little Goddess fell asleep in her mother's arms, recalling the many times she heard that song even form before she was born. La Muerte smiled and kissed her forehead, out of sudden not feeling as ill as before.

"Mi amor?"

She looked up to see Xibalba standing on the doorway, staring at her with an amused expression, holding a wooden tray with a plate of hot soup.

"How is it that she can cuddle with you but I can't?" the dark god whined playfully, approaching the bed silently.

"Don't be such a baby, Xibalba." La Muerte replied softly, carefully laying Marigold next to her in bed, watching with a small smile as she cuddled against her, entangling with her hair seeking warmth. "You'll wake her up."

Xibalba rolled his eyes with a grin as he sat down at La Muerte's side, placing the tray on top of her legs, and spoonful of the soup. He blew at it to cool it a little. "Open wide, _mi amor_." He grinned, as he leaned the spoonful in.

La Muerte giggled a bit as she took the whole spoonful into her mouth; her tongue immediately protested from the hot temperature, but it was a tasty soup. As she felt the warm liquid go down her throat and her husband take back the spoon from her mouth, she felt the cold sensation go away for a while. "It's delicious, Balby."

"Thanks, my dear. I made it especially for you."

"You did?" La Muerte inquired curiously. "I didn't know you cooked."

Xibalba blushed as he took another spoonful of soup and fed his wife. "I usually don't, but I thought to make an exception this time. Just don't tell anyone I know how to cook or I'll never hear the end of it; I can already hear Zipacna making fun of me."

La Muerte giggled at the last remark, despite the burning sensation at her lungs. They remained silent for the rest of the meal, except for a few coughs on La Muerte's part. When the bowl was empty, Xibalba placed the tray on the bedside table and lied down next to his wife.

"Is there something else you need, _mi cielo_?" he inquired softly, stroking her cheek.

"I'm fine, Balby." La Muerte sighed, before looking down at Marigold and pulled her daughter closer. "I feel better now that I have Marigold in my arms."

"I admit, things always get interesting when she's around." Xibalba chuckled as he ran a finger down Marigold's cheek, making her smile in her sleep. "Do you want me to take her to her room?"

La Muerte thought for a moment, before shaking her head. "No… Let her sleep. She'll be okay."

Marigold let out a small yawn as she snuggled deeply into her mother's embrace.

* * *

**Okay, to all my dear readers, I'd like to tell you that I'll be accepting requests from now on! It an include any character from my ****headcannon and the movie! **

**Well, see you next chapter!**


	10. Chapter 10

Can I play with you?

* * *

Marigold thought she was in paradise.

She had never been in Aztlan before, or at least she didn't remember; La Muerte told her they had brought her here when she was a baby to meet the other Gods. She did have flashes of being in her mother's arms in an unknown place, surrounded by complete strangers fawning over her.

As she followed her parents through the stainless clean halls, Marigold took in every detail, watching as servants walked around doing their chores, polishing the floor or the ornaments acting as a decoration, dusting the royal carpets and watering the plants. She was wearing her prettier rose dress, her hair carefully combed, adorned with a small red rose clip and a red hair bow, combining with her little shoes. Her parents wanted her to look her best for today, she didn't know why, but she didn't protest either; however, they couldn't prevent Marigold from bringing Rattles with her. She never went anywhere with that plush.

They knew that it was the first time (rather, second) Marigold had been here, so it would be wise that she caused a good impression. Xibalba, in particular, had been especially panicky, considering Marigold had never really interacted that much with other gods that were not her family, much less with children gods. La Muerte reassured him that she would be fine, and she was certain their little one would make a few friends. Perhaps she might even get a childhood sweetheart.

What she did to remain so calm, he would never know.

Once they were outside in the garden, they heard children laughter and teenager complaints. Marigold knew what was going on; her parents would go with the other grown up Gods and Goddesses to talk about grown-up stuff and she would stay here with the other children and play with them.

"I'm scared, mami…" Marigold clutched at her mother's dress with one hand, Rattles with the other and tried to hide behind her.

"Don't worry, chiquita." La Muerte smiled down kindly at her as she grabbed her hand reassuringly. "It'll be okay. You're going to make lots of new friends your age."

"What if they don't like me?"

"They'd have to be crazy not to like you, _mi florecita_!" Xibalba chuckled and ruffled Marigold's hair. Deep down, however, he knew what she was feeling, when he was a child he had never been so popular with other children. "Just talk to them like you talk with your little friends back home."

La Muerte gently pushed her daughter forward to encourage her. "Go on, _mi vida_. We'll be back in a few hours."

Glancing up at her parents one more time, Marigold reluctantly went forward to look for the other children. La Muerte and Xibalba watched her go with warm hearts, recalling their younger days.

"I hope she won't have the same problem as me when I was her age." Xibalba sighed sadly.

"She's a sweet young girl, Xibalba, I'm sure she'll have no problem at it." La Muerte replied gently, leaning against her husband.

"I hope so. I wouldn't like her to go through what I went through, not having a single friend."

La Muerte smiled and brought her hand up to touch his cheek. "You had me."

Xibalba blushed and pulled his wife closer in an embrace. "Well, other than you, _mi amor_. We should go, they'll wonder why we are taking so long." He offered his arm for her. "Shall we go, milady?"

La Muerte giggled and grabbed unto his arm. "Let's go, milord."

The two deities walked away from the garden, and into the hallowed halls of Aztlan.

Marigold, meanwhile, advanced towards the source of the children's laughter, towards the clearing. She spotted about eight water nymphs-the oldest being about thirteen and the youngest five- (probably Tlaloc's numerous daughters), a boy with bat ears, wings and fangs, and many other children, were doing different things; some were playing ring-around-the-rosey, others were playing tag, and others were playing with ball, Tlaloc's daughters in particular seemed to be very fond of that game.

Marigold clutched unto Rattles tightly against her chest, then approached the other children warily, not sure how to talk to them. The ball whizzed towards her and rolled over to her feet; Marigold froze as Tlaloc's daughters finally took notice of her presence and stared at her with wide eyes. Soon the other children joined them, though some were less shocked than others. Tlaloc's eldest daughter, in particular, showed a little interest in Marigold, though she soon was back to her book.

"_H_-_Hola_…" Marigold stuttered. "M-My name is M-Marigold…"  
"We know who you are." One of the young water nymphs interrupted her rolling her eyes. "Your parents are Lady La Muerte and Lord Xibalba."

"What are you doing here?" another asked, unamused.

Marigold gulped. "CanIplaywithyou?"

"What did you say?" yet a third nymph repeated. "What language is that, dumbese?"

Being the first time she ever met them, Marigold didn't know that Tlaloc's daughters were very vain, smug and classist, they didn't like hanging out with '_la chusma'_, as they called it. They only wanted to socialize with other Gods or Goddesses who were of their same status, and they considered death gods to be inferior to them.

"C-Can I p-play with you?" Marigold repeated, slowly this time.

"You?" the same nymph started to laugh, and was soon joined by her sisters. "You think _you_ can play with _us_? Don't be a fool!"

"You're can't even hold a candle, brat!"

Marigold felt close to tears as the nymphs continued taunting her, but it got worse when out of sudden one of them came forward and snatched Rattles from her.

"What's this, shrimp?" she asked, examining the snake plush with indifference. "Aren't you a little big to be playing around with dolls?"

"Give me Rattles back!" Marigold ran to get her plush from the nymph, but she threw her over to one of her sisters.

"You want it?" the nymph grinned tauntingly, shaking Rattles above her. "Come for it!"

Marigold tried to recover her precious toy back from the nymphs, but they just kept throwing it to one another, until the tallest caught it and then shook it above Marigold's head, snickering as the younger Goddess tried to get it back. "What? Too tall for you?"

Finally, her father's temper flared within her and she charged at the older nymph, knocking her down surprisingly for her young age. Marigold started hitting the water nymph, trying to get her to let Rattles go. However, the nymph's younger sisters approached and started pulling on her hair and wings. Tears of pain stung Marigold's eyes, but she was determined to get her toy; but the older nymph managed to get her off her and crawled away from her, her blue hair all messy and marks of nails on her arms.

"You brat!" she hissed, holding out Rattles. "You'll pay for that! Look what I do with your stupid doll!"

Marigold's eyes widened in horror when the nymph ripped Rattles in half, and her eyes stung with tears even more, both from the pulling and plucking of her hair and feathers. The eldest of the nymphs finally saw what was going on, and quickly went to stop her sisters from doing any further harm to the child, but suddenly she felt a powerful aura coming from the young goddess.

The water nymphs were sent flying backwards by a wave of dark energy and rose petals.

* * *

La Muerte and Xibalba nearly had a heart attack when a servant rushed into the meeting hall, yelling that the children had a fight. They found Marigold curled over Rattle's remains on top of a bed, sobbing. La Muerte immediately scooped her baby into her arms and held her close like when she was a baby.

The servant waiting with her explained to them what had happened, how Tlaloc's daughters had panicked, but that they had started first, so what happened so was just an act of self-defense. Still, Lord Xibalba and Lord Tláloc were less than pleased. The Lord of the Land of the Forgotten threatened the water nymphs with the worst of tortures if they ever dared to lay a hand on his daughter again; Tláloc agreed and did nothing as his daughters cowered in fear under the dark lord's fury.

Once he returned to the room his family was in, Xibalba drew close to them. Marigold snuggled deeper into her mother's arms.

"Shhhh, it's okay, _chiquita_…" La Muerte cooed, caressing her daughter's hair gently.

Xibalba gently tugged on the broken plush. Marigold let him pull it out. He examined it, and said. "Don't worry, _mi florecita_, we can fix dear old Rattles."

Marigold sniffled. Xibalba sat down next to his wife and lifted Marigold's chin to look into her eyes; they were glossy and puffy. Forced to look at her father, she whimpered out, terrified. "Are you mad, papi?"

Xibalba kissed her forehead. "No, mi florecita." When her head began to lower, he made her look up at him again. "But you do know the way to deal with the problem was wrong, right?"

Marigold nodded.

"You should never resort to violence to solve things, Marigold." La Muerte continued, wiping her daughter's tears with her thumbs. "It doesn't mean you should run away from problems; you have to face them, but not like that, pequeña. You could have gone to ask for help from any of the servants, of you could have come to us."

"I just wanted Rattles back, mami…" Marigold sniffled, before bursting out in tears once again and snuggling deeper into her embrace. La Muerte planted a kiss on her head and hummed their song to soothe and comfort her. Xibalba took her little hand gently.

"Would you like some churros?" he inquired with a small smile. "I heard Auntie Xochiquétzal made a whole basket just for you." Xibalba smiled when Marigold glanced at him with brightened eyes. "I'll be back in a moment."

The dark god stood up from bed and out of the room, heading towards Xochiquétzal's chambers. He passed by a couple of servants, and overheard their conversation.

"She took on all of Tláloc's daughters by herself?"

"And with a single wave of energy."

"That's surprising for a child her age, and she hasn't even developed her full powers yet."

"Imagine when they've fully developed."

Xibalba chose to ignore it, his daughter being his main concern right now.

* * *

A few days after returning home, Marigold wouldn't come out of her room, she was still too afraid to do so after what happened. She'd stay curled up in bed all day, hidden under her covers. La Muerte and Xibalba would try to coax her to come out, but for the moment it was no use, she didn't want to.

"I know you're upset, _nenita_, but you can't stay in here forever." La Muerte soothed her child, stroking her head gently.

"I don't want them to hurt me…" Marigold sobbed.

"We're back home, sweetie, with your old friends. They'd never hurt you, I'm sure they will be happy to see you."

"What if they don't like me anymore?"

"Don't say that, they're not like Tláloc's daughters."

There was a knock on the door, and Xibalba came in, hiding something behind his back with one hand. "_Mi florecita_…" he chimed with a grin as he approached the bed. "Look what I got for you."

Marigold shifted around in bed to see what her father had brought. Her eyes widened in delight when he brought his hand forward, holding Rattles back in once piece, as if it had never been torn, though there were stitches on half of its body. "Rattles!" she took her beloved plush and hugged it tightly.

"It wasn't that bad, I just had to refill it a bit and stitch it back." Xibalba smiled as he sat down next to his wife and child.

"Thanks, papi!" Marigold wrapped her arms around her father's waist.

"But how about you dry those tears and we go for a little walk?"

Marigold looked up at her father with still glossy eyes. "But I'm scared, papi…"

"It'll be okay, mi florecita. It'll be the three of us, we could even get some chocolate flan, what do you say?"

At the mention of chocolate flan, Marigold's eyes brightened once more, this time indefinitely. "Yay!"

La Muerte giggled. "That's much better, _chiquita_. But you need to take a bath first."

"Mami!" Marigold whined as her mother picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. "I don't want to take a bath!"

"You don't want to be stinky, do you? Remember you haven't bathed in three days."

Xibalba chuckled as his wife and daughter disappeared through the door of the bathroom. Ah, the things he did for those two girls.

His two girls.


	11. Chapter 11

Little Sister

* * *

_Second felt eternal as they waited. La Muerte fidgeted with her locks of black hair while Xibalba ran his fingers down his staff, both anxious and nervous as to Itzamna's diagnosis. These morning sicknesses and fainting spells had been present for about a month now, it was getting worrying, so in the end they decided to come see Itzamna and hope it was nothing grave. Deep down, though, La Muerte had a feeling as to why she was suddenly having these sickness and spells, but she didn't want to get her hopes up only for them to be shattered like the most fragile of glass again. _

_How long had it been since their baby had been born dead? How many centuries? Or even millennia? They didn't even recall, though it didn't make it less painful. They had tried many times to have another child afterwards, but all their attempts were in vain; La Muerte didn't understand what had happened to her, not even Itzamna had been able to find the cause of her infertility; eventually everyone assumed she had been traumatized by the death of her baby and it affected her fertility. _

_Eventually, they simply stopped trying and resigned themselves that they would never feel the joy of having a child. _

_"__What's taking him so long, dammit?!" Xibalba finally spoke with annoyance. "The anxiety is killing me!"_

_"__Don't rush him, Xibalba. He just wants to be certain." La Muerte scolded him gently. _

_"__That old man is never certain of anything." _

_"__I heard that." _

_Xibalba yelped in surprise when Itzamna walked into the room giving him an annoyed glance, before the old god glanced at La Muerte. _

_"__What do I have? Is it grave?" she asked worriedly, sitting up on the bed. _

_"__It's nothing grave, dear La Muerte. It's not a bad thing, actually."_

_"__What do you mean it's not a bad thing? All illnesses are a bad thing!" Xibalba panicked and took Itzamna by the shoulders. "How can you say it is a good thing?!"_

_"__First of all, take your hands off me." Itzamna growled gently as he took the dark god's hands off. "And second, you didn't let me finish. It's a good thing because it's not even an illness at all." _

_La Muerte was confused. "What do you mean?" _

_Itzamna glanced at La Muerte with a warm, small smile. "You're expecting a baby." _

_Silence. _

_None of the couple said anything while they processed the information in their brains. After a while, Xibalba managed to utter one single word. "W-What?" _

_"__Your wife is pregnant, Xibalba." _

_La Muerte just remained on bed, frozen, her eyes wide and her pupils shrunk a bit. Had she heard him right? She was expecting? Slowly, her hands found their way to her abdomen and came to a stop just over her belly. Could it be…? After so much time, could it be? La Muerte swore she could feel a little embryo squirming inside her womb, growing and flourishing. She was in so much shock that she didn't hear Xibalba calling her name worriedly._

_"__Muertita…?" he thought that calling her by the nickname she would snap out of it, but it didn't work. "__**Mi amor**__, are you okay…?" He grew alarmed when he saw a few tears in the corners of her eyes. "La Muerte?!" _

_When he touched her shoulders, she snapped out of her ecstasy trance and she broke down in tears of happiness and joy as she embraced her husband tightly, burying her face into his chest. Xibalba froze in confusion for a few moments, before returning the embrace and pulling La Muerte close. _

_"__I'm pregnant…" she was sobbing happily. "I'm pregnant…" _

_Xibalba found himself smiling as he felt a warm feeling in his chest. He hadn't felt it in a long time, it was so strong he felt tears in the corners of his eyes as well. _

_"__We're going to be a mami and papi, it seems…"_

* * *

Marigold just loved these times with her mother.

La Muerte mutually loved to cradle her daughter in her arms like when she was a baby and sit in her rocking chair, humming a little song and running her hands through her hair. Marigold could remember those moments back from when she was a baby, actually, though she wasn't sure how. She was still hurt about the fiasco with Tlaloc's daughters, and she was a bit hesitant to interact with other godchildren, though she did fine with spirits.

A few days ago, the family went to a ball celebrating a birth; Ixchel and Itzamna had a fourteenth child, a boy. The party was held in their emerald palace, in a beautiful realm filled with forests in which medicinal plants grew, where the gods gathered to meet the baby. As always, the godchildren went elsewhere to play while the adults did grown-up stuff, but Marigold clung to her parents the whole party, utterly terrified of going near Tlaloc's daughters.

Marigold had never seen a baby before; she didn't understand why they made such a fuss over such a small thing that did nothing but eat and cry. The baby just kept staring at the stranger faces curiously, comfortably cuddled in his cot; Xibalba told her that she used to be as small and helpless too. She found the baby adorable.

For some reason, after meeting the baby, Marigold wondered how come she didn't have any siblings. Tlaloc's daughters were sisters, most of the other godchildren had siblings or were related to one another, but she didn't. She wanted her own little brother or sister to play with, small and new, who wouldn't tease her. And they'd be so new and little that they'd need even her. She could take care of someone, she could care for another person like her mami and papi cared for her.

"Mami." Marigold whispered. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it, _chiquita_?" La Muerte replied softly.

"Why don't I have any brothers of sisters?"

La Muerte stiffened; she hadn't expected that. Memories returned like waves crashing against the rocks, but luckily Marigold didn't seem to notice.

"I mean, I'd like a little brother or sister, I really would. I'd take care of them and we could play together…" she recalled when her father told her where babies came from. "_Papi_ said it happens when two people love each other very much, like you do, and that you even enjoy it, so wouldn't you mind it…?" Marigold toyed with her hair. "I'd be a good big sister, really, I'd take good care of a younger brother or sister, or twins, even triplets, I-" she was interrupted when her mother placed a finger on her lips.

"I don't doubt it, Marigold. You would be a loving, caring big sister." La Muerte spoke gently with a sad smile. "I would be more than happy to give you a little brother or sister, but…" her smile disappeared. "Marigold, your papi and I… we can't have any more children."

Marigold blinked. "How?"

"Sometimes _it_… doesn't work."

"Why?"

"Your papi and I… are sick in our own way. Our bodies won't let us conceive any more babies. But it's not something that could kill us. It's not something that can physically weaken us. It's neither something that can heal or get better either."

Marigold blinked. "Oh."

In fact, it was a luck shot that they managed to conceive Marigold, a shot she and Xibalba were eternally grateful for. But after Marigold's birth there didn't seem to be any possibilities of them having another child, but they didn't really mind; their little flower was enough, and they'd give her all the love in the world. She had to admit, though, it would have been nice it they had could have had conceived another baby, but one couldn't have everything in this life.

Her eyes swelled up with tears when she recalled her first baby, how he had died without having even taken his first breath. She unconsciously tightened her hold on her daughter to make sure she was still there. Marigold noticed her mother was close to tears now.

"What's wrong, mami?" she inquired.

"It's nothing, my sweet. Mami just gets a bit emotional at times." La Muerte replied in a half-broken, half-kind voice."

"Don't be sad, mami. I'm going to get sad too."

Despite the tension La Muerte managed to beam down at her child and planted a kiss on her forehead. Marigold rested her head against her mother's chest and was soothed by her heartbeat. La Muerte stroked Marigold's head gingerly, and continued humming their little song. These moments between them were especially cherishing for both, to rekindle their mother-daughter bond, but overall La Muerte just wanted to hold her child close.

A few minutes later, Xibalba glided into their room and saw La Muerte had fallen asleep on the rocking chair, holding Marigold close to her chest, cradling and cuddling her. With a roll of his eyes and a fond smile, Xibalba snapped his fingers to make a quilt appear as he approached the rocking chair, then covered both his wife and child with it to keep it warm; before going elsewhere to avoid awakening them, he planted a kiss on La Muerte and Marigold's forehead.

"_Que descansen, mis primores_." He whispered.

* * *

**Okay, I know this chap was rather short, but I'm also working on other chapters, so don't freak out! See you next time! **


	12. Chapter 12

Hound Mushing

* * *

Marigold had always wanted a pet, but her parents thought she was yet too young to have one, and so she had to get comfortable with her father's pets. It wasn't so bad, actually. Xibalba would allow his daughter to play with them, though La Muerte was still reluctant to let her near Medianoche by herself, fearing she might spook him and get hurt. This didn't mean Xibalba wouldn't take her out for a ride every now and then.

She had not yet visited her father's realm, her mother would not allow it, thinking it was far too dangerous for a six year-old, so Xibalba brought over Garra and Colmillo wherever he could (to Marigold's delight and the Remembered's dismay).

In this occasion, Marigold spent the evening resting against Garra's curled up furry form, while Colmillo took a nap nearby. She was reading a book about dogs that she'd casually found in the library. Right now she was reading a chapter about sled dogs, and how they were used in a certain foreign land with snow and ice half of the year to pull sleds. It was nagging at her curiosity, like every little girl her age she wanted to imitate everything she saw. But where would she get dogs and a sled…

Marigold glanced at Garra and Colmillo and they lifted their heads off the ground in curiosity, wondering what was going through her head.

"Guys, would you like to play a little game?"

Colmillo tilted his head, as if asking '_what kind of game?_'

"First, we need to get a sled, come on."

The hounds stared at Marigold in confusion when she stood up and walked out of the room, but they nevertheless followed her. Marigold ran down the halls, her eyes scanning for anything she could use as a sled, but up to then there was nothing that could be useful. Or at least that's what she thought. When she was in the kitchen, she hid from view from the servants who prepared the next batch of food in case the tables ran out. Just then, Marigold saw a small wooden fruit box, big enough so that she could fit in. She watched as one of the cooks poured the contents of the fruit box into the table and then placed it back down.

Marigold approached the cook and tugged on her skirt. "Excuse me?"

The _calaca_ looked down in surprise to see her princess. "Princess? Is there something you need?"

"Can I have that box?" Marigold inquired, pointing at the wooden fruit box.

"That one?" the woman inquired.

"Yes, I want to play with it. Can I have it?"

The spirit smiled kindly. "I don't see why not, princess. Of course you may take it."

Marigold grinned and went forward to grab the box, not noticing that the servants were nervous with the presence of the hounds. Waving at the kind woman for the box, Marigold pushed it all the way back to her room, again followed by the hounds, who still didn't understand what she wanted to do. Once there, Marigold ran to her small table to fetch her painting kit-a gift from her father for her second birthday-, and grabbed a few jars of colors and brushes.

Garra and Colmillo watched as Marigold started her work with the fruit box; brushes flew and colored the wood, painting it pink and making shapes of hearts and flowers and stars. Once she was satisfied with her work, Marigold went to her toy chest and took out a long jumping rope for those days when she played outside in the courtyard. The hounds had a bad feeling when she gave them a mischievous look.

"Guuys…" she chimed.

They had an idea to what she was going to do.

Meanwhile, Xibalba was in the Dining Hall, taking a taste of these new macaroons he had heard so much about; he had to admit, they were really good. His wife had decided that maybe there should be more food form other countries, and the cooks were trying out some French recipes. How he loved to taste out new desserts! He felt a presence behind.

"Have you ever heard about 'knocking the door'?" he inquired.

"If I knocked from all the way there, you wouldn't hear it, _hermanito_." Zipacna snickered, before looking down at the tray of colorful macaroons. "Hey, I think I've seen those before."

"Macaroons. French." Xibalba replied, taking another one into his mouth to taste the sweetness.

Zipacna took one of the macaroons-a green colored one-and devoured it, licking his fingers in relishing when he tasted the sweetness. "Yeah, definitively I've tasted them before."

"I wouldn't be surprised, I supposed you visited lots of places on your… travels, right?" Xibalba inquired with a small hint of acidic resentment in his voice.

"Yeah, while I didn't go to the famous 'Paris' I stayed a few days in a French village, and I must say they may be snobs with a distaste for cheese but their wine is really good." Zipacna replied, oblivious to his brother's mood change.

Before Xibalba could say anything else, there was a commotion in the halls of the castle that called their attention. One of the guards came running towards them, scared out of his wits. "Majesty, your daughter-!"

Immediately, Xibalba grew alarmed. "Did something happen to her?!"

Before the guard could reply, Zipacna lifted him and started shaking him violently. "Don't you just stand there! Is my niece okay?!"

"Let him talk, Zipacna, would you?!"

"Uhh…" It took the guard a few seconds to react. "She's running down the hall with-"

He was abruptly interrupted once again as howling sounds and wood screeching against the marble floor echoed in the halls; a blur of black and color ran into the room, scaring spirits. When the two gods realized what was going on, they were both surprised and shocked.

Garra and Colmillo were pulling a wooden fruit box painted in bright colors by a rope tied around their waists, and in the box was Marigold, laughing. It was clear that even the dogs were having fun.

"Mari-!" Xibalba groaned in frustration. "Marigold!"

"Hey, isn't that like the sled dogs in Alaska?" Zipacna inquired.

"Shut up and help me with this!"

Extending their wings, they flew forward and landed a few feet in front the 'sled team'. Xibalba snapped his sharp teeth at his hounds. "Garra! Colmillo! _Quietos_!"

At the sound of their master's voice, both hounds braked sharply, sending Marigold flying through the air with a yelp of surprise to land in her uncle's arms.

"_Epa_!" Zipacna chuckled. "Where do you think you're going, _sobrina_?"

Marigold felt her father's gaze upon her, and she glanced back at him nervously as Zipacna placed her down; Xibalba stared down at his child with crossed arms and a mild frown. Garra and Colmillo whined and crawled behind Marigold to try and hide from their master's glare.

"What do you three have to say?" he inquired, though it was obvious he was only talking to Marigold.

"Come on, _hermanito_! They were just having a bit of fun! Besides, they didn't hurt anyone!" Zipacna tried to defend his niece, but felt a shiver down his spine when his brother's glare turned to him. "Okay, I get it, I get it." He walked back to the food table.

"I was just playing, papi." Marigold said innocently, but looked down when her father's expression didn't change.

"Sweetie, you realize you could have hurt someone, don't you?" Xibalba continued. "You can't just do whatever you want anytime you want, you could hurt someone. You could have asked me or your mamá for permission."

"I was just trying to mush."

The dark god raised an eyebrow curiously. "Mush?"

"It's when doggies pull a sled with a person on it."

"Yes, I think I've heard of it…" he glanced at her 'sled', then back at her with a small grin. "How about we give your little sled a few modifications?"

* * *

After a whole afternoon helping newly-deceased people reunite with their loved ones, La Muerte was glad to have a bit of time to herself to spend with her own family. She was surprised when Zipacna told her Xibalba and Marigold had something to show her, but he wouldn't tell her what, only that she would like it. In the courtyard, she found her dear husband waiting for her with a smile and a bouquet of roses.

"Ay, Balby, you old flatter." She smiled, accepting the bouquet.

"What?" Xibalba teleported behind her and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her clos to him and resting his chin on her shoulder. "Can't a husband show his wife how much he loves her?" he kissed his her neck and tasted her sugar skin, making her giggle.

"Hey, I'm still here, you know." Zipacna lifted an arm, rolling his eyes.

"What was this thing you wanted to show me, Balby?" La Muerte inquired.

"Oh, that." Xibalba snickered "Have you ever heard of mushing, _mi amor_?"

"It's a way of locomotion in the northern countries when there's too much snow. Why?"

"You'll see." The dark god glanced at Zipacna and gave him a nod. Zipacna grinned and called out for his niece.

"Marigold, you can come out."

To La Muerte's surprise, Garra and Colmillo walked into the courtyard, pulling something with ropes around their waists. A small sled carved from the fruit box came into view, and Marigold was on top of it, waving at her mother.

"Look, mami! I'm a musher!"

La Muerte started to giggle when she saw the crudely-made sled, but she had to admit it was pretty at first sight. Marigold looked up at her mother hopefully. "Do you like my sled, mami?"

"It's beautiful, chiquita." La Muerte smiled, stroking her daughter's cheek and then glancing at the sled. "Did you make it yourself?"

"Well… Papi helped me paint it."

Zipacna coughed to call her attention.

"And Tío Zipacna assembled it."

The caiman-head grinned proudly.

"But this sport is meant for snowy terrain, isn't it?" La Muerte inquired.

"Well, yeah, but there's not snow here."

La Muerte thought for a moment, before smiling at her daughter. "Well, we'll see what to do about that little detail later. Now let's go for dinner, okay?"

"Yay!"

Marigold poked the hounds' rear lightly with a stick, and they needed no more signals. They simply advanced forward with a bit of difficulty, pulling the sled along with them. Once she was certain her daughter was out of earshot, La Muerte whispered into her husband's ear. "Balby, I need your help with something."

"Anything for you, my dear." Xibalba smiled at her as he pulled her closer with a wing.

"I'm still here…" Zipacna groaned.

Xibalba ignored his brother and continued. "What do you need, _mi amor_?" La Muerte whispered into his ear, and he grinned. "That's a good idea."

Zipacna tapped on his brother's shoulder with a claw. "Care to fill me in, you two?"

* * *

Next morning, Marigold was awakened by a knock on her door. She let out a sleepy groan of frustration as she tried to hide under her pillows and covers.

"Oh, Marigold!" Xibalba chimed as he peeked is head through the door and saw his daughter still in bed. "Time to wake up!"

"Papi, it's Saturday!" Marigold pressed a pillow against her face.

"Come on, my sweetie! Why don't you come take a look at the window?" the dark god chuckled as he glided towards the bed and pulled the covers off Marigold playfully. "You're going to like it."

"Can't you wait until later?" she still tried to shield herself with her wings.

"Marigold, if you don't get out of bed right now you'll make me use the 'secret weapon'."

At the mention of the secret weapon, Marigold immediately jumped out of bed; Xibalba chuckled as he caught her in his arms before she could fall out of bed. "You should be a bit more careful, my dear."

"What's so important that you woke me up so early, papi?" Marigold rubbed her eyes.

"I figured you'd want to take a look outside."

"Why?"

"Close your eyes. It's a surprise."

She was confused, but nevertheless closed her eyes and rested her head against her father's chest as Xibalba walked out of her room, and down the hall. She wondered what kind of surprise her father wanted to show her.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now, _mi florecita_."

Marigold opened her eyes, and gasped in wonder. The whole courtyard was covered in a layer of white snow, and snowflakes were falling from the sky; the paths had turned to ice, not slippery enough to have someone trip, but enough so people could skate. "Wow."

"Since we're in December, your mami thought we should start decorating for Christmas, and you can mush more easily now." Xibalba smiled at his daughter.

La Muerte was already outside, in the table underneath a parasol for this climate. She beamed at her two loved ones as Xibalba glided closer to her, still holding Marigold in his arms. "Do you like it, chiquita?"

"I love it, mami!" Marigold hugged her mother by the waist happily. "Thank you."

"Before anything, let's do something with those clothes." La Muerte snapped her fingers, and changed Marigold's pajamas for a pink winter outfit, with wool red gloves and boots. "You don't want to get a cold, do you?"

Xibalba chuckled and, taking two of his fingers to his mouth, let out a whistle. Immediately, Garra and Colmillo trotted closer pulling Marigold's new-and-improved sled, wagging their tails at their master's child. With a satisfied grin, Xibalba glanced at his child. "Your carriage, milady."

Marigold squealed in surprise and got unto her sled; the two hounds started to run and pulled the sled along with them. La Muerte and Xibalba watched fondly as Marigold raced around the courtyard with Garra and Colmillo like she were a musher, they didn't realize someone was hidden in a nearby bush.

"Balby… I'm cold…" La Muerte whispered into her husband's ear seductively. "Would you mind helping me warm up a little?"

Xibalba grinned and pulled his wife closer with his arm, then wrapped a wing around her. "Feeling better, _mi amor_?"

"Much better, my love."

"I love you."

As they leaned in closer for a kiss, a snowball aiming for Xibalba's head few out of nowhere and struck its target; Xibalba yelped in surprise while La Muerte gasped in bewilderment. Xibalba glanced around the courtyard to see who had dared to interrupt such a moment, and he spotted a pair of feathery ears peeking from the bush.

"ZIPACNA!" he roared in anger.

The feather-made god finally revealed himself and glanced at his younger brother with a mischievous grin. "What? When was the last time we had a snowball fight, _hermanito_?"

"Just wait till I get my hands on you, feather-brain!" Xibalba made a snowball of his own and chased Zipacna around the courtyard, throwing snowballs at his brothers and dodging snowballs thrown at him. La Muerte giggled from her place underneath the umbrella, watching as her two babies played.


	13. Chapter 13

Passion

**Warning!**

**This chapter will contain sex and mature themes, so if you're below at least fifteen you shouldn't read it. PD: It's my first ever mature scene.**

* * *

_5 hours ago_

* * *

"When was the last time we had some intimate time for ourselves?"

La Muerte didn't know what to answer to that. She didn't really recall herself, the last time they had 'time for themselves' was when they conceived Marigold six years ago, but they hadn't touched the topic in all that time… until now.

"Six years ago, I think."

Xibalba thought for a moment, before taking his wife's hand in his own. "Say… have you thought of spending a night alone? Just the two of us?"

"What about Marigold, Xibalba? I wouldn't want her to catch us in the act, she'd get traumatized-"

"We could ask Zipacna or the Candlemaker to look after her. I miss cuddling with you, my dear…"

La Muerte couldn't help but giggle when she felt him leaning closer to her and rubbing against her body like a cat. "Are you sure your brother won't mind looking after Marigold for a night?"

"You kidding? He loves kids, it's just they don't find him cute or cuddly."

"Marigold does."

"See? It'll be okay, my love, and we'll get to spend some time together…" he purred into her ear. "Alone."

* * *

_Present_

* * *

"Ay, Balby, did we really have to come all the way here?" La Muerte inquired from her husband's arms, her eyes closed.

"It's much more quiet than the Land of the Remembered, mi amor." Xibalba whispered into her ear, holding her bridal style, recalling their first night together. "Besides, that gives me time to ready a room for us."

"Your room, right?"

"Well, my bed is much comfortable than my servants', isn't it?"

"When can I open my eyes?"

"It's a surprise, my dear."

La Muerte giggled and buried her face into his chest; a few minutes passed before Xibalba spoke again. "You can look now." When the goddess opened her eyes, she gasped in surprised.

It was almost like their wedding night, but she thought in this occasion it was much more beautiful. A path of short candles with cinnamon scent and rose petals led to Xibalba's bed, whose dark sheets had been replaced with white ones only for this occasion; adorning the bed were red and white rose petals forming a heart, with even more red candles over the furniture, and crystal vases with crimson roses. The fireplace was burning with a reddish hue to it, giving the room a more romantic air. But La Muerte was surprised when Xibalba glided past the bed and towards the bathroom, though soon she saw why as soon as they crossed the door.

Even the wide bathroom was romantically decorated, with another path of red and white rose petals leading to the obsidian bathtub filled with crystal clear warm water and white bubbles. Red candles with the scent of rose were lit, illuminating the bathroom and giving it the scent of flowers; La Muerte spotted two crystal wine glasses and a bottle of their favorite wine on a small table next to the bathtub, and a single rose on a crystal vase.

"Ay, Balby…" she whispered in awe. "This is beautiful."

"I have to admit, Emilio and the others really outdid themselves this time." Xibalba replied gently, setting his wife back on her feet gently.

"But you told them how you wanted it."

"Well, mi amor, it's not everyday we get to get cozy." He grabbed her shoulders from behind, sniffing her hair. "I want it to be special for the both of us."

"You never cease to surprise me, _mi vida_." La Muerte turned around to wrap her arms around Xibalba's neck. "You're as romantic as ever." She rubbed his lips with her thumb. "Let's have a little fun."

The two gods joined their lips together in a gentle kiss, their tongues touching each other like two serpents coiling around each other as La Muerte threw her hat aside and found the latch of Xibalba's armor, while he removed his gloves and pulled down the zipper of his wife's dress. His cloak slid off his waist and his armor off his chest, exposing his skeletal legs and his strong chest. Once they were both free of their clothing, Xibalba picked La Muerte up bridal style once more, shivering in pleasure at feeling her delicate hands rubbing the back of his neck, and went into the bathtub, his wings outstretching a bit as he sat down, the water reaching to his chest as his feathers drenched and relaxed in the warm water. When they finally broke the kiss to regain their breath, they were blushing fiercely.

"You definitely haven't lost your touch, my love." La Muerte sighed, resting her head against the dark god's chest, her long raven hair flowing underneath the warm water, ticklish against Xibalba's skin.

"Anything for you, _preciosa_." Xibalba kissed her head and pulled her closer with an arm, reaching out to grab the two glasses. "Would you like some wine, my sweet?"

She accepted one of the glasses and snuggled deeply into his embrace. "Is it our favorite?"

"I still remember when we first tried it." He chuckled, taking the bottle and filling their glasses with the cold wine, before placing the bottle aside temporally. "We got drunk and ended up making it under a tree, remember?"

"Don't remind me… It was embarrassing when Xochiquétzal and Tezcatlipoca found us." La Muerte shivered in delight when she felt his hand run down her back and squeezed one of her buttocks.

"You have to admit their faces were very funny."

The warm water, the bubbles and the scent of roses gave them a relaxing air as they continued to chat and drink their wine, wallowing in the bathtub and cuddling closer to each other. After a good while, when they felt their skin was starting to wrinkle a bit from the prolonged exposure to water, they placed their glasses aside and stepped out of the bathtub, water scurrying down from Xibalba's wings and La Muerte's hair. Once they were dry, Xibalba picked up his wife bridal style for a third time and carried her to bed, careful not to step on any of the candles. He carefully lay her down, and rested next to her.

"Are you certain you want to continue with this?" he inquired. "I mean, I know you're very sensitive with this…"

"Don't worry for me, Balby…" La Muerte smiled, twirling his moustache in her finger. "I actually missed these nights."

"Me too, _mi corazón_… _Te amo_…"

She giggled. "Kiss me already, Balby."

The dark god chuckled. "I can't ignore an order from my angel, can I?" He thought for a moment, and grinned mischievously. "But how about we make things a bit more… interesting?"

"Interesting?"

Still grinning, Xibalba flapped his wings, and the breeze blew out the candles and the fireplace, leaving the room pitch dark. La Muerte was surprised by the action, but she nevertheless giggled and wrapped her legs around Xibalba's waist. "You're always making up new forms to make things interesting, my love."

"Now, where were we?" he purred seductively, guided by her bright eyes as he leaned his chest closer to hers.

Once more, their lips joined tenderly and their arms wrapped around each other. Soon, Xibalba's tongue was making its way into his lover's mouth to taste her sugar, and his hands were exploring her body, first her cheeks, then her silk-like licorice hair, her curves, to finally find their way to her breasts and squeeze them gingerly. La Muerte moaned in pleasure and tightened her legs' grip on her husband's waist, pulling him closer, indirectly telling him that she was ready. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck in a ticklish way, making Xibalba groan in delight and delight.

It wasn't soon before he was on top of her, his tongue moving from her mouth down to her neck, and between her bosoms; the goddess cried out in ecstasy and pleasure, gripping unto the sheets, the rose petals sticking to her hair. La Muerte released the sheets and stroked Xibalba's wing bone, making him shiver with pleasure.

What came next was what they'd been both expecting.

La Muerte cried out surprise and a little pain when Xibalba thrust in and out of her, but soon the pain was replaced with euphoria and pleasure, her womb on fire like the hottest sun. Xibalba was groaning with pleasure, his teeth gone sharp and his feathers bristling. Oh, god, it felt so good….

They became one. Angel and demon. Dark and light. Kindness and cruelty. Sugar and tar. Opposites were attracted as their hearts drummed, beating as one. La Muerte grabbed Xibalba's beard and pulled him down into a fierce kiss, her legs still around his waist. His skin smelt of tar, but she didn't care.

She felt his manhood devouring her womanhood in this expression and rekindling of their love that burned like the wildest fire, no matter how hard a storm struck. They felt like they were in heaven, and their hunger for passion was quenched and sated by tenderness.

When they were reaching their climax, Xibalba proceeded to plant kisses on her slender neck. La Muerte was moaning with pleasure as she ran her hand down his back and wrapped the other around his neck. She could tell he had been holding back, he was afraid to hurt her unintentionally after so much time.

"Ay, Balby!" she cried. "Faster! Harder! I want more of you!"

"Ay, _mi amor_!" Xibalba cried out as he picked up speed and force. "I can't contain myself any longer! _Bésame, amor mío_!" La Muerte complied, and the two began having another tongue battle through their kiss, this one fiercer.

About five to ten minutes later, La Muerte felt she was reaching her climax.

"Xibalba…. I… I can't… I can't hold… it…" she cried, pulling him closer.

"I'm almost… there." Xibalba growled. "Just… wait for me… wait for me…" his thrusting became harder and faster.

Until…

"LA MUERTAAAUUUGH!"

"XIBALBAAAUUGH!"

The two of them cried out each other's name as the King of the Land of the Forgotten came hard into her pussy, and she came hard enough to clench her lower regions muscles around him and milk him into her more. As Xibalba came into her, the fireplace and the candles flared lit once more. When he withdrew himself from La Muerte's entrance and collapsed beside her, the flames went back to normal.

As the two gods panted from exhaustion, La Muerte turned to Xibalba and wrapped an arm around his neck to hug him with a smile, the perspiration of her body mixing with his own. The dark god hugged her back with a smile as he breath in their sweat and sex.

"Well, that was wild…" he chucked, licking his lips.

"I've never had so much fun in a while, Balby…" La Muerte replied with deep pants. "We should do this more often…"

"Anytime you want, _mi amor_…"

She cuddled closer to her husband and planted a kiss on his cheek, snuggling against the crook of his arm. Blushing, Xibalba pulled her closer with his arm and blanketed her with his wing, planting a kiss on her head. Their hormones lowered back to normal, and their exhaustion took over, making the two lovers fall unto sleep.

* * *

The next morning, La Muerte was the first to wake up. She was snuggled against Xibalba's body warmly, and his wing was over her like a blanket; she couldn't help but giggle when she realized he was snoring lightly, with his tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth. Xibalba smiled in his sleep; he always loved her laugh.

A pleasant smell caught her attention, and she saw followed it with her eyes to the small table near the balcony doors. There were trays of warm food on top of the table, probably left by the lizards while they were still asleep. Unlike most of the Ancient Gods, Xibalba had a more European taste (as well as a big appetite), probably because of the years he spent away on war. It consisted of coffee and milk with a few sweet cakes and pastries with chocolate filling or sweet jam, as well as a bit of juice. There was a plate with slices of different cheeses and a bowl of grapes, along with a boiled egg. For her, the lizards knew she didn't eat as much as their master, she was happy with a fruit salad, toast and some juice.

The smell reached Xibalba's nostrils, and he cracked his eyes open at the scent of hot chocolate. He looked down to find his Muertita snuggled next to him.

"_Buenos días_, Balby." She smiled, her fingers running up his chest in a playful manner, making him smile.

"_Buenos días, mi amor_." Xibalba purred, kissing her head. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than ever, _mi vida_. I wanted to tell you that Emilio and the others already left us breakfast."

"Good, I'm starving." With a groan, he gently removed his wing from behind his wife and stood from bed, stretching out his wings and bones before donning his purple bathrobe. La Muerte followed soon after, similarly putting on a red gown to hide her gorgeous curves from view. They had just sat down on the table when there was a knock on the door. "Come in." Xibalba spoke out loud softly, taking a slice of cheese and giving it a bite.

The door slit open and one of the lizards poked in his head. "Sorry for the interruption, My Lord, but you've got mail."

The dark god frowned in annoyance. "That's all? Just leave it in my desk and I'll read it later." He growled, taking a sip from his coffee.

"There's a minor problem with that, My Lord…" Before he could continue, Roberto walked into the room with a kart filled with white envelopes.

"Where do I put…" he realized what was going on. "…these?"

Xibalba nearly dropped the cup of coffee in bewilderment when he saw how many letters Roberto was carrying in the kart. La Muerte was equally surprised, but she stood up from her seat and walked towards the kart to take one of the envelopes and see who sent them.

Her heart skipped a beat and she gasped. "It's from Zipacna!" she looked at all the other envelopes, and they all had the same remittent.

As soon as he heard his brother's name, Xibalba nearly choked unto a pastry and he swiftly flew towards the kart, grabbing an envelope and tearing it open quickly, faring something had happened to his daughter. As he read the content of the letter, however, his worry turned to shock and annoyance.

"'Where do you keep the peanut butter'?! Are you serious?!"

La Muerte let out a sigh of relief as Xibalba continued to see the contents of the envelopes to find nothing more than silly questions, before looking down at the lizard in the door. "Fernando, when did these letters arrive?"

"Last night, My Lady, first it was one and then they didn't stop." Fernando replied. "We wanted to tell you, but we assumed you didn't want to be interrupted."

After the tenth letter, Xibalba let out a snap of frustration and annoyance.

He was _so_ going to get Zipacna for this.


	14. Chapter 14

Grounded

* * *

"Why can't I go with papi, mami?"

"He's going to work, chiquita." La Muerte explained to her daughter in her lap as she brushed her hair. "He has a realm that needs his attention too."

Marigold looked down sadly. "But I don't want him to go."

"It'll only be for a few days, and he promised he'd bring you a gift when he came back."

"How's his realm like?"

"It's…" La Muerte tried to find a suitable word for it. "it's not as colorful as here, _mi vida_. It's much more calm and there are almost no parties."

"Why?"

"Well… the people down there don't like them."

"When will I be able to see it?"

"When you're a little older, Marigold. Your papi's realm is quite dangerous, and I don't want anything to happen to you."

Marigold wasn't happy, but nevertheless hugged her mother. "Okay."

The goddess smiled and planted a kiss on her daughter's head, hugging her back gently.

An hour later, Marigold was looking for her father around the castle, and she found him in the library reading a book. Xibalba lifted his gaze from the book and found his baby standing in the doorway. "Is something wrong, _mi florecita_?"

She walked closer to him. "Why do you have to go, papi?"

The dark god placed the book aside and picked his daughter up to sit her in his lap and hold her close. "I have a realm that needs care like the Land of the Remembered."

"Why can't I go with you?"

"Well, sweetie, your mami thinks it's very dangerous for you, and I agree. I'll take you there when you're older, I promise."

Marigold wrapped her arms around her father's chest. "I don't want you to go, papi.·

Xibalba smiled sadly and stroked his daughter's hair gently. "I'll be back in the blink of an eye, _mi pequeña_. Then I'll take you for a ride with Medianoche, all day if you want, does that sound good?"

She hesitated, but still nodded. Marigold stayed in her father's arms for a few more minutes, before she slid off his hold and sadly walked out of the library. She didn't understand why her parents didn't want to take her down to her father's realm, they claimed it was dangerous, but how dangerous could it be? She thought maybe they were exaggerating. But asking her father to take her was out of the question; she'd have to find a way to tag along with her father without him noticing.

Her feet took her to the stables in a few minutes, and she found the servants were readying Medianoche already. She spotted saddlebags at the back of the saddle, on the horse's rear, they seemed big enough for her to fit in. Marigold waited until the stablehands left momentarily to quickly sneak towards Medianoche-careful not to be directly behind him unless she wanted to receive a kick in the face-and look for something to reach the saddlebag.

Medianoche perked up his ears when he heard someone dragging a crate towards him, and bent his neck back to take a peek; he recognized Marigold, and watched as she climbed unto the crate, by then she realized he had taken notice of her presence.

"Hey, Middy." She whispered. "Don't tell papi about this."

Medianoche rolled his eyes with a small grin as he centered his attention back forward. Marigold finally managed to reach the saddlebag, and much to her relief realized that she did fit inside. Quickly, she slid into the saddlebag and closed it just as the stablehands returned and led Medianoche outside to the gates of the castle. Marigold peeked outside to see her parents at the gates, embracing each other.

"See you in a few days, mi amor." Xibalba told his wife while placing a gloved hand on her cheek.

"We'll be waiting, Balby." La Muerte replied gently, resting her hand on his chest. "Don't forget to write." They shared a quick but tender kiss.

Marigold hid her head back into the saddleback just as her father climbed unto Medianoche and she felt the horse moving, it started with a walk before it turned into trotting, and before she knew it she was clinging inside the saddlebag when her father sped up into a gallop. After a while, Marigold felt sleepy by the movement and warmth of Medianoche's body; it wasn't long before she fell asleep.

* * *

She didn't know how much time passed, but by the time she woke up she realized Medianoche's pace was coming to a halt, but she still opted not to peek outside just yet. She heard her father dismounting.

"Welcome back, My Lord." She heard another voice, one she had never heard before.

"Good to see you too, Juarez. Take Medianoche to the stable and give him water, he's tired from the trip."

"Yes, My Lord."

Marigold felt Medianoche walking, or rather being led, somewhere for a while before it came to a stop. Knowing her father was gone for the moment, Marigold finally peeked from inside the saddlebag and realized they were in a stable, like that in her mother's castle, but this one only had one stall, and there was no color. Oil lamps of green fire illuminated it, and there was a blacksmithing fire on one side, probably for making Medianoche's horseshoes. Marigold saw a dark, skeletal lizard approaching Medianoche with a bucket of water, and placed it on the ground; immediately the horse bend down his neck and started drinking from the bucket to sate his thirst.

"You sure are thirsty, Medianoche." The lizard sighed. "But I'm glad to see you. Lord Xibalba only comes down every few months, and only for a few days. Even his hounds miss them."

Marigold waited until the lizard went away, and then she climbed out of the saddlebag, and flapped her wings instinctively as she fell to the ground. The little goddess quickly made her way out of the stable, and examined her surroundings with a bit of dread and a chill running down her spine. Like her mother said, there was no music in her father's realm, nor fiestas, everything was of dark and grey colors. There were no buildings of colorful and different shapes nor air balloons, but constant snow and ash falling from the sky. In the landscape across the lake of lava she saw rows of stalagmites and stalactites in the ceiling and the floor, as well as a few ruins that she didn't recognize.

Her father's castle was very intimidating, with the shape of a two-headed snake curled around each other, with open wide mouths and sharp fangs, as well as green torches and candles illuminating it. For a few moments she was frozen in fear, but eventually her legs responded.

Looking around to make sure the lizard was not around, Marigold made her way to the castle gates and pushed one open with some difficulty to take a peek inside. The interior of the castle was even scarier than the exterior, with dark halls and the eerie candles of green fire illuminating it. Marigold gulped and stepped inside, the door closing behind her. She tip-toed around the castle's halls, glancing around to make sure there were no more lizards. However, suddenly she heard dog barking behind her.

Panicking, Marigold went to hide under a decorative table, trying to cover herself with the tablecloth to keep the dogs from coming after her. She saw shadows of various hounds like a play outside, sniffing the ground and slowly approaching the table. Marigold panicked when a large wolf head lifted the tablecloth and she found big green eyes staring right at her. The wolf sniffed her with raised ears, and curious eyes. Soon the others did so as well, peeking their heads to take a look at the 'intruder'.

Marigold tentatively reached out her little hand and touched the wolf's nose. However, the wolf wagged his tail and licked her hand, making her laugh. "You're cute."

The wolves turned friendly and started sniffing the young goddess playfully, all wagging their tails. Marigold giggled and started petting all wolves' heads, laughing at feeling their tongues coming into contact with her cheeks, until a slightly larger shadow approaching.

* * *

Xibalba nearly had a heart attack when his wife burst into his study with an anguished look in her face. "Xibalba, is Marigold with you?!"

He blinked in confusion. "No, why?"

"I can't find her! She's not in the castle, she's not with the Sanchezes and no one knows where she is!"

"What?!" the dark god felt his heart nearly coming to a halt when those words left his wife's lips.

"I don't know where she is!" La Muerte cried, collapsing into Xibalba's arms, her eyes swelling up with tears. "I can't find her…"

"La Muerte, everything's going to be okay." Xibalba embraced her in comfort, but he failed to hide his worry. "We'll find her, she couldn't have gone far."

"I don't get it, where could she have gone?"

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"When we were in my room, I didn't see her after that."

Just then, there was a knock at the door. "My Lord?"

Xibalba sighed in exasperation. "What is it, Emilio?"

The lizard peeked his head through the doorway. "I found a certain someone in the hallway." Emilio then opened the door and gently led a small goddess inside.

"MARIGOLD!" La Muerte immediately ran towards her daughter and hugged her tightly, peppering her cheeks with kisses. "_Chiquita_, you're okay!"

Xibalba approached his daughter and started checking her for injuries. "Are you okay, Marigold?!" he inquired with worry.

"I'm okay, papi." Marigold replied softly, slightly trembling.

"I'm glad, jovencita, because you owe us an explanation."

La Muerte pulled back from the embrace and looked down at her daughter. "How did you get here, Marigold?!"

"I hid in Medianoche's saddlebag."

"Marigold, what you did was very dangerous!" La Muerte snapped at her daughter. "You could have fallen off! Or worse! You had me worried!"

"I'm sorry, mami… I was just curious."

"_Jovencita_, it doesn't justify what you did!" Xibalba spoke hardly at his daughter. "You shouldn't scare us like that! What if something happened to you?!"

"But papi-" she trembled at seeing his reproaching eyes on her, before he looked away.

"I'm sorry, Marigold, but you're grounded for two weeks. I don't want to see you until then." Xibalba didn't even look at her.

Marigold felt her eyes swelling up with tears. "Papi…"

La Muerte picked her daughter up and teleported back to the Land of the Remembered, to her room. Marigold started sobbing and buried her face into her mother's chest. Her father had never talked to her like that, he was really mad at her. She didn't like it.

"Shhh. What's wrong, _chiquita_?" La Muerte cooed.

"Are you mad too, mami?"

"No, _mi vida_, but you _had_ me worried. You have to understand that what you did wasn't right, you could have gotten hurt or worse. What if something had happened to you? You papi and I would be very sad."

"He was angry at me."

"He was just worried about you, but he loves you very much. You'll see, soon he will come around."

Still, Marigold snuggled against her mother's embrace, still sobbing.

* * *

Marigold spent her grounding in her room, and was not allowed to eat dessert nor go out to play with her friends. She didn't want to, anyway. She was very sad, her father had never been so angry at her. She didn't see him for the two whole weeks her punishment lasted, and he didn't even come. La Muerte often went down to visit him, but Marigold didn't even ask her how he was.

Even after the two weeks passed, she still avoided her father, thinking he was still angry. At first everyone thought she would eventually forget about it, but she did not. She spent most of her time in her room, when her father tried to see her she hid under her bed or feigned being asleep. It bothered Xibalba. The truth was he had missed her very much and wanted to make up for the two weeks he had not seen her, but his little one avoided him at all times.

"She's afraid of me, isn't she?" he asked his wife one night, when they were in their room.

"Don't say that, Xibalba, she's just still sad that you grounded her." La Muerte replied softly, not lifting her gaze from the book she was reading.

"I don't know what came over me. I was mad that she made us worry like that, but I never thought she would become afraid of me."

"I didn't like how you talked to her, but what she did wasn't right either. You just did what you thought was right."

Xibalba thought for a moment, before standing up from bed. "I'm going to try and talk to her."

La Muerte finally lifted her gaze. "It's ten o'clock, she must be asleep by now."

"It's worth a try."

Xibalba walked out of the room and slowly walked down the hall to the door next to theirs. Once he was in front of the door of Marigold's room, he knocked gently. "Sweetie?" No reply. He tried again. "Are you awake?" He thought he heard little footsteps inside. Xibalba silently turned the knob and opened the door silently. The lamps were unlit, and he saw a little form curled up under the blankets of the bed. Xibalba sighed; he couldn't wait any longer, he ad the feelings she was just feigning to be asleep so she wouldn't have to talk to him. He stepped into the room, and walked towards her bed.

"Marigold, I…" he spoke gently, but she made no movement other than her chest rising from her breathing. "I know you're not really sleeping." She still didn't move. "You can keep feigning, but I need to talk to you."

Marigold didn't move. She was still asleep. Xibalba sighed once more and sat down at the edge of her bed.

"_Mi florecita_, I understand you're upset, but you snuck into my horse and went down to my realm without permission. You're our only daughter, Marigold; we wouldn't stand if anything happened to you. _I_ wouldn't stand if you got hurt. You're my baby, I'm just trying to protect you, it's what parents do with their children." The dark god glanced back at his daughter, but she was still immobile. He thought for a moment, before laying down in bed next to Marigold so he could stroke her head. "I recall the first time your mami went go out and I had to stay home with you…"

_It was what could be considered 'nighttime', though the lights rarely went out in this festive land. The music rarely came to a halt, and __**papel picado**__ rarely stopped falling from the sky, so one would think it was very hard for anyone to sleep, but it was actually the contrary as Marigold demonstrated it. She was falling asleep, suckling on her pacifier, her half-closed eyelids set on the mobile just above her cradle, with little birds, bees and snakes. She wasn't aware of a shadow approaching her until it was just above her, with outstretched claws, glowing red eyes and a mischievous grin._

_"__PEEK-A-BOO!"_

_The reaction he got from Marigold was quite the opposite of what he expected. Her little face crunched up and she started to cry of fright. Xibalba panicked. _

_"__Nononono! I didn't mean to startle you, __**mi bebita**__." The dark god quickly took his daughter in his arms and held her close to his chest to rock her back and forth. "Shh, sh-sh-sh."_

_Marigold looked up at her father with glossy eyes. He Xibalba smiled and started to sing to her. _

**_Arorro mi niña_**

**_Arorro mi sol_**

**_Arorro pedazo_**

**_De mi corazón_**

_Marigold reached out her little hand for her father's face, gurgling as her fingers started fidgeting with his upper lip, but soon she was giggling in delight when her father nibbled on the tiny digits playfully. After a while, Xibalba released her digits, and then gently pinched the tip of her tiny nose gently. _

_"__Papi's got your nose! Papi's got your nose!" he chimed playfully, his heart warming up with his baby's happy giggling and gurgling. _

Xibalba couldn't help but chuckle at the memory. "I just loved to play with you, you were such a happy little baby…" he felt a tear clinging in the corner of his eye, but he blinked it away. "I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'll always love you. You'll always be _mi florecita_." The dark god planted a kiss on Marigold's head. "_Te quiero, mi pequeña_."

As he was about to stand up from the bed, he felt a little hand squeezing his own lightly.

"_Te quiero más, papi_."


	15. Chapter 15

Unexpected News

* * *

It was the fifth time this month.

La Muerte had woken up feeling nausea, and immediately rushed to the bathroom to vomit. She wasn't sure why, she hadn't eaten anything that could have caused her any sickness. That, and she'd wake up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. It was getting worrying.

Xibalba watched in worry as his wife poked her food around in her plate, she was not being quite herself lately. "_Mi amor_?"

She looked up at him. "What is it?"

"Are you sure you're feeling alright? You haven't been eating much these days."

"I'm fine, _mi vida_, it's just… I don't feel like eating eggs, that's all…"

"I can tell the cooks to make you something else…"

"I'm not very hungry, Xibalba…"

Xibalba grabbed her hand tenderly. "Are you certain you don't want to go see Itzamna or Toci? This has been going on for a month…"

"No, I'm okay, really…"

Just then, Marigold entered the dining hall and approached her mother's chair, her hair a mess. "Mami, I can't find my ribbon…"

La Muerte smiled down at her daughter. "Don't worry, _chiquita_, I'll help you." But as she stood up from her chair, suddenly her consciousness faded away temporally and she collapsed; Xibalba was quick to teleport to her side and catch her in his arms.

"La Muerte!" he shook her by the shoulders in dread and worry. "Mi amor, what's wrong?!"

"Mami!" Marigold joined her father and tried to awaken her mother. "Mami, please wake up!"

It took a few seconds, but La Muerte opened her eyes and realized she was in her husband's arms. "What happened…?"

Marigold embraced her. "You fell to the ground! I was scared!"

"That's it, we're going to see Toci." Xibalba spoke standing up and holding his wife bridal style in his arms.

"Xibalba, I'm fine-" the goddess was interrupted when he silenced her by placing a finger to her lips.

"No complaints, La Muerte. It could be something grave, so we're going to see Toci." The dark god spoke firmly. Knowing it was futile to argue, La Muerte sighed.

"Papi, can I go with you?" Marigold asked, pulling at her father's cloak.

"I don't think that's a good idea, my sweet. Toci is just going to check on your mami to see if she is ill." Xibalba looked down apologetically at his daughter. "I'm telling your _tío_ to come over to keep you some company, okay?"

Marigold's face beamed up. "Yay!" If there was something she loved, it was spending time with her uncle, especially after that night when her parents spent the night together down in her father's realm and they sent lots of letters to them.

La Muerte groaned softly. "Just tell your brother not to worry us so much with so many letters this time, Balby…" she buried her face into her husband's neck to take a little nap.

Xibalba laughed as he planted a kiss on La Muerte's head. "Don't worry, _mi amor_, after the scolding I gave him I'm certain he won't do that again."

* * *

The smell of the cinnamon incense usually made her relax, but in this occasion it made her stomach churn. While Xibalba waited outside in the hall, La Muerte was inside Toci's chambers, being checked upon by the old Goddess. Her hat temporally aside, the sugar goddess sat upon a chair, her hands resting on her lap as Toci touched her forehead.

"Let me see your breasts, dearie." Toci said softly. La Muerte lowered the bodice and sleeves of her dress, exposing her chest. Toci gently started to touch them, and noticed they were slightly swollen; as soon as her fingers touched one of the breasts La Muerte winced slightly, gripping on the arms of the chair. "Does it hurt?"

"Not much, only a bit…"

"How have you been feeling lately?"

"I've been having morning sickness these past days, and suddenly food disgusts me… at least my favorite treats."

"I see…" Toci smiled internally, she knew what was going on with La Muerte, but she had to be certain before jumping to conclusions. "Tell me, dearie, have you and Xibalba…?"

"Oh… well, a few weeks ago he invited me to his realm and we spent the night together."

"And have you had your period yet?"

"… Now that you mention it, my period is three weeks late but I haven't told anyone about it…"

"La Muerte…" Toci finally smiled physically as she took the younger goddess's hand. "You should already know what causes these symptoms…"

Outside, Xibalba was pacing in front of the oak doors, clenching his staff in his hands, freaking out about his wife's condition. If Zipacna were here he'd make a joke about making a crevice in the ground from all the pacing, but he didn't care about that for the moment. He instantly reacted when he heard the doors creak open, and Toci came out. Instantly he teleported in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. "How's La Muerte?! Is she okay?! Don't keep me with this angst, _vieja_!"

Toci rolled her eyes and removed the dark god's hands from her body. "First of all, calm down, she is not ill. And second, it's something she wishes to tell you herself."

Xibalba didn't even wait until the Goddess told him he could go in, he immediately rushed inside and towards his wife. La Muerte looked like she had seen a ghost, and her hands were resting on her belly. "La Muerte!" the dark god flew towards La Muerte and took her hands. "What did she tell you? Is everything alright?!"

La Muerte stared into her husband's eyes, her own starting to swell up with tears.

"_Mi amor_?! Was it that bad?"

"Balby…" she lifted a hand to stroke Xibalba's cheek tenderly. "Ay Balby…"

"La Muerte, please tell me what happened!"

Suddenly she smiled, confusing him further. Just what was going on?

"Muertita, you're freaking me out."

"Remember our night of passion a few weeks ago?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with-" it was his wife's turn to silence him by placing a finger on his lips. She grabbed his hand and placed it upon her belly. Realization suddenly dawned on him, as he looked down at her abdomen, and processed the indirect information in his brain. "B-But…" he looked up at La Muerte's eyes and placed his glove on her cheek, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "I-Is that…"

La Muerte nodded with the warmest smile. "I'm pregnant…"

His heart was overwhelmed with a swirl of feelings inside his chest; joy, surprise, happiness, confusion, but overall ecstasy at the news. "I thought… I thought we couldn't have any more children… What happened?"

"Toci wasn't certain of what happened… She was as surprised as me…" La Muerte was sobbing of joy, placing her hands on her belly. "Even I'm not sure of what happened…"

He was at a loss of words. He could only say one thing. "Then it's a miracle." He surprised his wife by sweeping her into his arms for a passionate yet tender kiss, wrapping his wings around her. La Muerte gave in and returned the kiss, embracing his neck and stroking the back of it. After a while, they had to break up to take some air, and La Muerte started twirling her husband's moustache with her finger.

"Now we need to figure out how to tell Marigold…"

"She's a smart little girl, I'm sure she'll take it well…" Xibalba purred into her ear. "Besides, didn't you mention she wanted a little brother or sister?"

La Muerte pulled away from the embrace with a worried expression. "Yes, but you know that sometimes children can become jealous if they have a new sibling. Just look at Tlaloc's daughters, they're always jealous of each other."

"It's not their fault Tlally doesn't know how to deal with so many kids emotionally." Xibalba lifted his wife's chin with his finger to look at her eyes. "But we're going to love and cherish our _two_ children equally. So don't worry, my dear, everything will turn out alright."

* * *

A few hours later, Marigold and her uncle awaited anxiously in front of her parents, waiting for them to say something. Her mother was much more happy and sweet than usual, and her father was in a pretty good mood. La Muerte was sitting in her favorite chair, her hands stroking her belly tenderly, while Xibalba stood next to her, his hand on her shoulder to reassure her. Marigold wondered what was so important that her parents wanted to discuss it only with them, but Zipacna already had an idea; only he didn't want to spoil the surprise for his _sobrina_.

"What did granny Toci say, mami?" Marigold inquired curiously, referring to Toci as 'granny' even though she knew they weren't related at all.

"_Mi chiquita_…" La Muerte smiled sweetly at her child. "It's good news." She didn't stop caressing her belly.

"Good news?" Zipacna inquired. "Since when are illnesses a good new?"

"In this occasion it is." Xibalba was so happy he didn't bother to give his brother a scolding glare.

"What is it, papi? Tell me!" Marigold pouted.

La Muerte and Xibalba glanced at each other with a smile, before looking at their daughter with bright eyes.

"You're going to have a little brother or sister." La Muerte said, her voice dripping with love and tenderness as she looked down at her belly.

Marigold didn't react at first. Her eyes widened and she processed her mother's words, hearing her tío stand up from his seat and rush forward to congratulate his brother and her mother, nearly crushing Xibalba's bones in the process. She stared at her mother's abdomen as she caressed it. Suddenly, her face lit up and she teleported to her mother's lap in a swirl of rose petals to embrace her mother happily.

"Yay! Thank you, mami!" she young goddess was nuzzling against her mother's chest, her little wings trying to wrap around her.

La Muerte giggled and returned the embrace, planting a kiss on her daughter's head. "You don't have to thank me, _chiquita_. It just happened."

"Well, _mi florecita_, I guess soon you'll have a little sibling to play with." Xibalba chuckled, ruffling his daughter's hair playfully.

"And I hope he or she won't be afraid of me this time…" Zipacna muttered under his breath.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16- Big Sister's Watching

* * *

**2 months**

* * *

Soon, Marigold noted what big changes a baby brought. The spare room in front of her was turned into the baby's room: snake cloth over there, new curtains and tapestry, plush dolls, red crib, sky-colored bathtub, cake-colored lamps, and she was told not to go in without an adult. They thought she'd get too curious and accidentally break something.

Her mother's belly was starting to bulge out a bit, but it wasn't that noticeable just yet, especially from afar. Also, there were many things her mother couldn't do anymore, such as play tag with her and those kind of things. Her father would fuss over her mother a lot, tending to her every need, and sometimes she'd help him. Everyone spoke of diets and exercises for La Muerte and names for the future baby.

"Say hi to your little brother." La Muerte would take her daughter's hand, put it on her tummy and hugger her tightly.

Marigold wanted to meet her little sibling so badly, but it would be a long while before the 'stork brought him.' So for now, she just waited. But she was constantly following her mother around, watching as she talked to the small bump in her belly and stroked it. Sure, there were times when Marigold was freaked out by La Muerte's mood swings; but her auntie Carmen explained to her it was normal the first months women expected babies, and then mentioned how La Muerte had also been moody when she was pregnant with her.

"What are you doing, mami?" Marigold inquired, crawling towards her mother on bed, doing something with a ball of blue yarn and two big needles.

"I'm making booties for your little brother." La Muerte replied softly, her eyes not leaving her work.

"Can I watch?"

"Sure, honey."

Marigold watched for a while as the knitted yarn grew bigger little by little, until it was big enough so that her mother cast off the knitting from the needles and folded the fabric in half from the inside out, then she sewed the fabric together and formed a small bootie fit for a baby's feet. "That's amazing, mami!"

"I used to make booties for you too." La Muerte smiled at her daughter. "But pink because you were a girl."

"How do you know I'm having a little brother? What if I have a little sister?"

The goddess giggled. "You're starting to sound like your papi, he had the same doubts when I was pregnant with you and I said you'd be a girl."

"He did?" Marigold giggled too.

"Yes..."

"But how do you know, mami?"

"Well, _chiquita_, all women have something that's called mother's intuition. It's the feeling mothers have about their children, it tells them when they are in danger or if there's something wrong with them."

"I don't get it…"

"You will someday, chiquita, when you have children of your own." La Muerte pulled her daughter closer and kissed her head.

"So you think he'll be a boy?"

"I don't think so." The goddess gently rubbed her belly. "I _know_ so."

* * *

**Four months**

* * *

Her belly had grown considerably, now it nearly looked like a football ball. She couldn't play with her daughter as much as before, but she'd take Marigold with her to the market to buy some toys and little clothing for the baby. The merchants and craftsmen were more than happy to present their Queen with their newest mercancy, the thought of _their_ toys serving their queen's child was such a great honor to obtain, what a better way to show their appreciation for their beloved queen. Marigold chose a few of her little brother's toys, and even a cute pair of red booties with golden trimming.

Other times, she'd accompany her father and uncle to other countries when her mother had cravings. On this occasion, they went to Andalusia, Spain to get some crème brûlée and marzipan (in human form, of course). As Xibalba talked with the woman in the bakery, Marigold was amazed by how different Spain was from Mexico, in very single way. The people, the buildings, the colors and smells, and many other things she didn't see back home. However, she did notice a few women wore dresses similar to that of her mother's.

"Why are things different here, _tío_?" she inquired.

"Well, it's another country, _sobrina_." Zipacna explained. "Things are different in every country, because they have different cultures."

"But why can't people live all together, like in the Land of the Remembered?"

"Well, if things were the same in the whole world it wouldn't be any fun."

"You visited lots of places?"

"A lot, one of these days I'm taking you to a far city in the East. People are so obsessed with cleanup that they have two different shoes for outside and inside."

Just then, Xibalba returned with a paper bag containing the foreign pastries. "Let's go, I have the stuff. You know how La Muerte gets when she gets hungry."

"Can I look around some more, papi?" Marigold inquired, clutching at his pants.

"Your mami is waiting for us, sweetie. We don't want your baby brother to get hungry, do we?"

"Come on, _hermanito_, when was the last time you and little Marigold spent some quality time together?" Zipacna grinned as he took the paper bag from his brother. "How about I take this to La Muerte and you and Marigold hang out here for a while?"

"But-"

"Please, papi…" Marigold was now hugging his leg and giving him the puppy look. Oh, damn, how could he say no to such an adorable angel?

"Oh, well, I think your mami won't mind…" he smiled, ruffling his daughter's hair playfully.

"Well, _hermanito_, _sobrina_, have fun! I'll take La Muerte's food to her! See you later!"

As his brother walked away to look for a private place to teleport, Xibalba cried out for him. "Don't you dare eating those pastries on the way back!" Once Zipacna was out of sight, the disguised god looked down at his daughter with a smile. "So, what would you like to do, _mi florecita_?"

"Could we go take a look around?"

The two spent a few hours strolling around town, seeing churches and a few events such as the traditional dance, and even a small _corrida_. Marigold held her father's hand all the time, absorbing what she was seeing happily, seeking to learn more things with her own eyes instead of books. Xibalba didn't like interacting with humans that much, but for his daughter he was capable of bearing it just to see her happy. When it was about to become nighttime, Xibalba finally looked down at her.

"Marigold, it's time to go back." He told her gently.

"Awww…" though disappointed, Marigold was tired and she wondered how her mother was doing.

"Don't worry, my sweet, we can come back when your baby brother is born."

"Can I take something to mami? I want to give her a gift."

"What would you like to take her?"

Marigold looked around, and a speck of red caught her attention.

Back in the Land of the Remembered, Zipacna panted in exhaustion as he returned to his sister-in-law's room with yet another basket of _tamales_. "Here you go, _cariño_." As he handed over the basket to La Muerte, he collapsed unto the floor.

"Thank you, Zipacna." La Muerte smiled, patting his head. "You're such a cutie."

"You're *_pant_* welcome…" Zipacna whined, before his head collapsed unto the floor and he took a quick nap."

"Could you do one more thing for me?"

His eyes snapped open in horror, but before he could protest the doors opened once more and Xibalba and Marigold walked in. The caiman-headed god looked upwards with a thankful look. "_Gracias_…" he thought.

"Why are you in the ground, brother?" Xibalba inquired, chuckling.

"Long story, one that includes being ordered around by your wife."

La Muerte giggled. "Sorry if you had a bad time because of me, Zippy."

"Don't worry, _cariño_. Anything for you and my _sobrino_."

Marigold approached her mother with a bouquet of red carnations. "I brought you flowers, mami."

"Aww, they're beautiful, _chiquita_." The older goddess smiled, taking the small bouquet from her daughter's hands. "Your little brother will love them."

"Glad you liked them, _mi amor_." Xibalba smiled while he got closer to his wife and planted a kiss on her head.

La Muerte giggled. "Ay, Balby…" she glanced at Zipacna. "Zippy, would you mind bringing a vase?"

Zipacna groaned in exhaustion and collapsed his head back on the floor.

* * *

**5 months**

* * *

It wasn't long before La Muerte started to feel the baby's movements and kicks as her abdomen grew. Her heart leapt with joy everytime she felt the light tapping and quickening within her womb. She remembered when her little Marigold was the one inside her body. This time, though, the movements could be felt a bit more strongly than before. Now she used special dresses that exposed her swollen abdomen, so that it wouldn't tighten around the baby. She was in the courtyard, sitting on one of the chairs of the tea table, gently stroking her abdomen as she hummed a little song for her unborn child. Marigold was playing a few steps away from her mother with her dolls, while Xibalba had to go to his realm for a few hours to finish up some paperwork.

"Does my little brother really move in there?" Marigold asked casually, looking up at her mother and leaving her dolls temporally aside.

"Yes, my dear." La Muerte replied, smiling as she stroked her belly.

"When will I be able to feel him?"

"Right now he's napping, but he'll move in a while."

"How does it feel, mami?"

"It's… like fluttering or taping inside your stomach."

"Why doesn't my baby brother move all the time?"

"Because he needs to sleep too, _chiquita_." Suddenly, La Muerte took her hands to her abdomen and looked down at it with a smile. "He's kicked."

"Really?" Marigold quickly stood up and ran to her mother's side, and placed her hand on her belly.

La Muerte smiled and gently took her daughter's hand, guiding it to where she felt the kick. "Here." Marigold squealed in delight when she felt a light tapping from within her mother's belly.

"Wow… If I talk to him will he hear me, mami?"

"I'm sure he will, _chiquita_. He wants to know what's going on outside."

Marigold smiled and laid her ear on her mother's stomach. "Hi, little brother. I'm your big sister, how are you doing in there?" She was happy when her unborn sibling started kicking once more. "I can't wait you meet you, we're going to play all day!" After a while, the little one got bored and went to do something else.

"How are my two special girls doing?"

Just then, Xibalba walked into the courtyard, holding a bouquet of white roses in his hand and a grin on his lips. Marigold immediately rushed towards her father and hugged his legs. "Papi!"

"What have you been doing, _mi florecita_?" the dark god chuckled as he ruffled her hair playfully.

"Papi, I felt my little brother kicking!"

"You did?" Xibalba walked towards his wife and handed her the bouquet. "For you, _mi amor_."

"Thanks, Balby, they're beautiful." La Muerte smiled when she took the bouquet from his arms and sniffed it. The scent of flowers made the baby kick and squirm happily in her womb. "Looks like our baby liked the detail too." La Muerte smiled, rubbing her stomach happily.

"Let me see." Xibalba placed his gloved hand on her belly, and managed to feel some of the baby's movements. "Awww, you're bored in there, son?"

Marigold giggled at how her father started talking sweetly to her baby brother, especially when Xibalba kneeled down next to La Muerte and laid his head on her bump.

"I'm papá, baby… Can you hear me? I'm right here."

He felt a tapping feeling on his cheek, like his child greeted him.

"Awww… I can't wait till you come out either, baby. You and I will have so much fun. I just hope you won't turn out like-"

Suddenly, something happened inside La Muerte's womb, the baby gave a tremendous kick that sent his father flying across the courtyard, until he crashed against the stonewall. La Muerte gasped in shock while wincing at the feeling of the tremendous kick, while Marigold ran to her father's side to see if he was okay. "Papi! Are you okay?!"

Xibalba was still half-knocked out from the hit, but still he managed to lift himself a bit from the ground with a goofy grin. "That's my boy.." with these words, he collapsed to the ground.

* * *

**7 months**

* * *

"Mami!"

Marigold burst into her parents' chambers with teary eyes, her little heart drumming inside her chest. La Muerte stirred awake, her baby squirming in protest inside her womb, and glanced towards her daughter. "What is it, _chiquita_?" she inquired softly.

"I had a bad dream!" Marigold ran towards the edge of her mother's side of bed. "Can I sleep with you?"

By then, Xibalba had half-awakened due to the fuss, and glanced over at his daughter. "I don't think that's a good idea, you move a lot and you could kick your little brother…"

"Come on, Xibalba, I don't think anything will happen to the baby. It'll be only for one night." La Muerte looked down at her daughter with a smile. "Of course you can sleep here, _mi vida_."

Marigold climbed unto her parents' bed and snuggled against her mother, though La Muerte's abdomen was now so big it took her a great effort to accommodate herself without hurting her baby brother; still, Marigold snuggled against her mother's warmth, her little wings wrapping around her body. "I love you, mami"

La Muerte smiled as she kissed her head and pulled the blanket over her. "_Que sueñes con los angelitos, chiquita._"

A few minutes later, Marigold had fallen asleep, snuggled in the crook of her mother's arm. Xibalba sighed and placed a hand on his wife's swollen abdomen. "Guess we'll all be sleeping together tonight, baby." He spoke to his child gently.

The baby didn't respond. He probably had gone back to sleep.

"Are you sure you don't want to switch places, _mi amor_?" Xibalba asked his wife, caressing her cheek with his fingers. "What if Marigold kicks at your stomach in her sleep? You know she moves a lot when sleeping-"

"It'll be okay, Balby." La Muerte answered simply, watching as her daughter snuggled into her hair. "Don't worry about the baby. Nothing's going to happen."

Sighing, Xibalba let his body fall back on bed, his wings shifting careful so not to hit his wife and daughter. "I know, I just…"

"You worry too much, Balby."

"You're right, _mi corazón_. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, _mi vida_." La Muerte stroked his cheek and twirled his moustache with her fingers. As always, he melted at her touch. "You're a good papi." She kissed him on the lips, and he returned the gesture tenderly. Suddenly, she felt small heartbeat-like sensations inside her womb, and her child squirming a bit. "Balby, I think our baby's hiccupping." She giggled, stroking her belly.

Xibalba chuckled and placed his hand on top of hers. "Wow. Just like his big sister, he gets violent hiccups when you're sleeping, _mi amor_."

The goddess sighed and snuggled against her husband's embrace. "They got it from you, you know."

"Sure they did, _mi amor_." The dark god purred into her ear seductively. "Sure they did."


	17. Chapter 17

A New Family Member

* * *

About two months later, it started like a normal day. Marigold woke up and dressed up, but as she left her room soon she realized something was going on. Maids ran down the hall carrying towels and a bowl of water, and she was hearing screams coming from her mother's chambers. Alarmed, she ran down the hall after the maids towards the doors of the room, but the doors closed shut before she could take a peek to what was happening.

"Hey, _sobrina_!" her uncle flew down the corridor and landed next to her. He sounded nervous.

"What's wrong with my mami?!" Marigold asked, her eyes swelling up with tears of fright wherever she heard her mother screaming.

"Nothing's wrong, _sobrina_! Your little brother is coming!"

Her heart skipped a beat. "I wanna see!" But her uncle picked her up by the waist.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Marigold! It's grown-up stuff, besides you could make your mami nervous and that could affect the baby."

After another scream coming from the inside, Marigold winced in fright and instinctively wrapped her wings around her body.

"But there's something you could help us with." Zipacna stated with a mischievous grin.

"What is it?"

He placed her down and led her down the hall. "See, your papi's got some father spasms."

"What are those?"

"Let's say he's so nervous he can't control himself, and he might put your mami nervous too."

"Where is he?"

"Well…"

Zipacna opened one of the doors, and when Marigold walked in she found a quite funny scene. Her father was tied unto a chair with thick ropes, and there was a cloth gag covering his mouth. Xibalba let out muffled growls and yells of protest as he tried to free himself from his bindings; the Candlemaker was tying his wings together with another rope.

"Really, _amigo_, why must you get like this everytime La Muerte goes into labor?" The Candlemaker sighed, shaking his head.

Xibalba let out yet another muffled growl, his feathers bristling as he wiggled in his bonds. Marigold approached her father, trying to contain her giggles. "Hey, papi."

"Cool down, _hermanito_." Zipacna patted his brother's back with a laugh. "Everything's going to be okay."

"MPH!" Xibalba protested, once more trying to get free, but his bindings were too strong.

"Why did you tie papi up?" Marigold inquired.

"Well, let's say your papi tends to get all panicky, you should have seen him when you were coming into the world." The Candlemaker giggled. "Your mami nearly fractured his hand." He ignored the glare the dark god was giving him.

Xibalba managed to take the gag off. "Wait until I get free of this, you two are so going to get it!" he growled, trying in vain to free himself.

"We wouldn't have had to do it if you didn't exaggerate so much!" Zipacna retorted.

"Exxagerate?! My wife is giving birth! Again!"

"You act like she's dying of a cold, for goodness sake!"

"By the way, guys, I gotta go and do a quick check-up on the new candles." The Candlemaker stated. "The least thing we want is infants coming down here so soon. If something happens let me know!" With that he was gone in a flash of light.

"Look, Zipacna, if you untie me I won't punish you for this." Xibalba spoke, calmly this time.

"Punish me?" Zipacna repeated with a snicker. "I think you're forgetting who's the eldest, _hermanito_."

"Then act like it and untie me!"

"I'd like to, but I just recalled there's something I have to do." The caiman-headed god looked down at his niece. "Keep an eye on your papi, okay?"

Marigold nodded her head. "Okay."

As soon as his brother disappeared, Xibalba glanced at his daughter with puppy eyes. "But you are going to release papi, aren't you?"

"Sorry, papi, but _tío_ Zipacna said not to untie you."

"Come on, _mi florecita_! Your baby brother is coming, your mami needs us both!"

"But tío-"

"Don't mind your _tío_, he doesn't know what he's saying!" Xibalba thought for a moment. "Tell you what, sweetie, if you untie me I'll let you name your little brother."

Marigold glanced up at her father. "Really?"

"Yes, don't worry about it. I'll talk to your mami about it, but please untie me!"

Marigold hesitated a bit, but eventually she approached her father and started untying the rope at his feet, hands and wings. When the ropes fell to the ground and he felt his hands being freed, the dark god took off and flew towards his wife's chambers in a heartbeat, Marigold trailing after him in bewilderment. However, before he could burst in a black shadow flew towards him and pinned him to the ground.

"ZIPACNA!" Xibalba roared at his older brother.

"I knew Marigold would probably untie you, so I came over to make sure you wouldn't do anything rash." Zipacna stated simply.

"Get off me!"

"Forget about it! Do you remember the last time you had a father spasm?!"

Marigold blinked. "What's a father spasm?"

Zipacna gulped. "Huh… We'll tell you when you're older."

"Zipacna, my wife is giving birth!

"And you're panicking! Again!"

Xibalba sighed in exasperation. "I promise you, I'm not losing control!

"I know you, _hermanito_, you'll probably try to burst into the room and you'll make La Muerte nervous!"

"I give you my word!"

Zipacna narrowed his eyes at his brother. "You swear it?"

"I swear it!"

Warily, Zipacna lifted his foot off his brother's back, but Xibalba flapped his wings and sent him flying backwards. But before he could burst through the door, suddenly a pair of heavy hooves stomped on his back and pinned him down once more. Letting out a cry of pain and surprise, Xibalba twisted his neck around to see who had dared pin him back to the ground, and found Medianoche neighing at him.

"Seriously?!" Xibalba snapped. "How did you even get in here?!"

"Yay, Middy!" Marigold clapped her hands.

"Good one, horsey!" Zipacna laughed.

Xibalba sighed and drummed his fingers on the marble floor. "Great, just great. Pinned down by my own horse. Can there be something more humiliating than this?"

Medianoche neighed.

"And _you_ can forget about your sugarcubes!"

Before he could say anything else, suddenly they heard a baby cry coming from La Muerte's room. Xibalba froze, Marigold and Zipacna glanced at the door with wide eyes, while Medianoche raised his ears curiously. A few seconds later, the doors finally opened and the midwife came out, though when she saw the scene before her she wasn't amused. She simply looked down at Xibalba. "Congratulations, My Lord. Your wife gave birth to a healthy boy."

"_Sí_!" Zipacna chirped in low voice.

Medianoche lifted his hooves off his master's back and allowed him to stand up. "C-Can we go in?" Xibalba inquired with his heart in his throat.

The midwife nodded. "Of course, My Lord. My Lady is waiting."

Xibalba looked down at his daughter with a smile as he took her hand. "Ready to meet your baby brother?"

Marigold nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

He led her into the room. The maids were cleaning up and hiding any bloodstained towels and sheets from Marigold's view. The young goddess saw her mother in bed, she was surprised to see how worn she looked. Her skin was noticeable dampened and dirtied from sweat, her hair was also a mess of tangles from the usual wavy and flowing dark hair she usually had. Her colorful sun-colored eyes were focused entirely on the mass of towels she was holding in her arms. She still looked more beautiful than ever.

The trio approached the bed, where La Muerte looked up at her family with glossy and tired eyes. Her attention was set on her daughter most of all. "_Chiquita_, there's someone who wants to meet you."

Nervously, Marigold approached the bed and tried to take a peek to her little brother; Xibalba helped her unto bed, and she crawled closer to her mother to take a peek at her newborn baby brother, her eyes widened as her mother removed a bit of the towels to reveal his face. The baby had an uncanny resemblance to his father, but his skin was made out of pepper, with red swirly markings and a neck of red ectoplasm. His eyes were closed, and he had his mouth open in a cute yet comical fashion, allowing him to give a slight snore. The baby sneezed and started to stir. Marigold was taken aback by the sudden motion and jumped back a little, crouching down to make herself look small. She was still looking at her brother when the baby slowly opened his eyes-which turned out a bright shade of amber similar to his mother's-and stared back at Marigold.

Xibalba smiled, his chest swelling with fatherly pride when he saw his two children meeting for the first time. He sat down in bed next to his wife and daughter and stared down at his son lovingly. There was a chuckle from his brother who was still standing there.

"Looks like the new kid is awake. She nearly startled Marigold off of the bed." Zipacna chuckled, though he didn't approach his nephew just yet; the least thing he wanted was to startle him like Marigold when she was a baby.

The newborn baby reached out his tiny, skeletal hands for his sister's locks of hair, gurgling innocently; Marigold was soon yelling in pain when he pulled on her hair, and he giggled. However, he lost interest and took his hand to his mouth for him to suckle on. Instead of being angry, however, Marigold just kept looking at her baby brother curiously, not believing his fragile little child had been inside her mother's belly all this time.

"Just like his papi!" Zipacna chuckled, before muttering to himself. "Let's just hope not in personality too…"

Out of sudden, a pillow struck him from behind. Zipacna looked towards the direction of the pillow to see who had thrown it, but found no one. "Who threw that?"

Xibalba frowned at him. "As much as you deserved it for the commentary, it wasn't me."

"I can't throw that far, _tío_…" Marigold stated.

"I'm holding the baby." La Muerte added.

Marigold noticed her baby brother's eyes were glowing a bit of red, staring off into a random direction even though he barely saw a few inches beyond his face, coincidentally the couch where there were a few cushions. Another cushion started to glow with a red aura and it floated, before throwing 'themselves' at Zipacna. "Mami, papi, I think the baby is throwing the pillows."

"Isn't he too young to use his powers yet?" Xibalba inquired, watching at his son's glowing eyes.

La Muerte was looking down at her baby as much as surprised as him. "He is…"

"Looks like we got ourselves a prodigy, guys!" Zipacna laughed, before a pillow was thrown at him once more. "Yup. Definitively his papi's son."

"_Mi amor_…" Xibalba held his arms out for the baby. "May I?" He carefully took the newborn infant from his wife, and cradled him in his arms. "Hi, son. Remember me? I'm papá." The baby wiggled in his father's arms, gurgling and cooing.

"Can I name him now, papi?"

"Oh, that's right." Xibalba looked at his wife. "Would you mind if Marigold named the baby, _mi corazón_?"

"I don't have anything against it, Balby, but may I inquire as to why?"

"Let's say I promised her I wouldn't let her name her little brother if she did something for me…" he looked down at Marigold. "So, anything in mind, _mi florecita_?"

Marigold crawled closer to her father and sat up in bed to take a peek at her little brother once more; she hesitated a bit, but she reached out her land and stroked her brother's cheek with a finger. He reacted, his tiny digits wrapping around her index fingers and he cooed, kicking the air. She had a name in mind for her little brother…

"How about Alastor?"

"Alastor…" Xibalba glanced back at his son. "It suits him."

La Muerte nodded. "Our little Alastor…"

Alastor yawned and snuggled into his father's embrace, burying his face into his chest.


	18. Chapter 18

After her little brother was born, Marigold became some sort of his shadow. He was so tiny, and so helpless that her parents had to put lots of attention to him, all he did all day was eat, sleep or cry. She wondered when she'd be able to play with him, for now he simply kept staring up at his surroundings from his cradle or his mother's embrace. He was smart enough to know what was going on around him, however. Marigold had to stay an hour close to his brother due to the fact that Alastor would start to cry as soon as she tried to move her face away, until he finally fell asleep.

Her parents couldn't spend as much time with her as before, since her baby brother needed more attentions, but she proved to be quite understanding, and more often than not she tried to help in anyway she could, though due to her young age there wasn't much she could do other than entertain him. Still, wherever they had the chance, La Muerte and Xibalba would spend some time with her, either to take a stroll through the courtyard or playing with her dolls. Marigold had to admit, though, there were a few things she didn't understand about taking care of a baby.

As she walked into her mother's chambers with a piece of paper, she found her in sitting in bed with her back resting against the many pillows, cradling Alastor close to her chest, but he was hidden from view with his little blue blanket with trimmed purple snakes, green stars and black _calaveritas_.

"Mami, look, I made you a drawing!" Marigold chimed, running to her mother's side and holding up the drawing (depicting her and her little brother playing with blocks) for her to see; these days her painting skills were getting much better.

Although she was nursing Alastor, La Muerte thought it wouldn't hurt to take a look at the drawing, so she lifted her gaze momentarily to take a peek at it. "Aw, it's beautiful, _chiquita_. You're a great artist." She smiled, before looking back at her baby when he started to sob, and cooed at him.

Her curiosity got the better of her as she climbed unto bed. "What are you doing, mami?"

"I'm feeding your baby brother, _chiquita_."

"Without a bottle?"

"Well, for the first months babies suckle from their mommies' chest."

"Why?"

"You sure are a curious little girl." La Muerte giggled. "Because mommies' milk has special nutrients the first few months that protect their babies from infections. Alastor's tummy is very tiny, he only needs small amounts to fill up. When he grows a little more he'll eat more and more, eventually he'll start eating from the bottle."

"Can I see?"

La Muerte wasn't sure if she should let Marigold see how her baby brother was nursing, but in the end decided to comply. "Just be careful, sweetie." She carefully lifted a bit of the blanket. Marigold watched in awe at the sight of her baby brother's lips latched unto their mother's breast, suckling hungrily and snuggling into her warmth, he was so immersed in his feeding he didn't notice his sister was watching him eat. A few seconds later he finally released the nipple, but soon he started squirming in discomfort as his little face crunched up. La Muerte shifted him to hold him against her chest, and then started patting his back.

"Why do you do that, mami?" Marigold inquired curiously.

"Alastor swallowed a bit of air when he was feeding, and he can't get rid of it by himself just yet. He needs help." They were caught by surprise when out of sudden Alastor let out small burp, before starting to hiccup lightly, this only made both mother and daughter giggle at the baby's antics.

* * *

Later at night, Marigold was awakened abruptly by Alastor's wailing. That was the only thing she disliked about him, he tended to cry in the least opportune moment, no matter what time it was. Carmen explained to her that babies didn't know night was the time to sleep and day to be awake, they had to be taught as they grew older, but for now Alastor just cried wherever he was distressed as much as some people disliked it.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to try and calm him down so he would go back to sleep. Marigold slid out of bed and headed to her toy chest to search for a small stuffed crow with a bell inside, before tiptoeing out of her room and across the hallway to her little brother's nursery. When she opened the door, the wailing became louder as she slid in and approached the cradle warily to avoid startling Alastor; she dragged a nearby chair next to the bassinet and climbed on it so she could see inside. When she took a peek into the cradle, she saw him crying his heart out, kicking the air violently like he was trying to release himself from the blankets.

"Hi, Alastor." Marigold greeted the wailing child. "Are you sad?" Curiously, as soon as Alastor heard her voice, his crying diminished into sobs and he looked up at her, his hands reaching out for her locks of hair. "Or did you have a bad dream?" She held out her crow doll above him and shook it, making the bell jingle. This caught Alastor's attention as he reached out his hands for the crow, gurgling. "Here, this is Mr. Crowley, he will take care of you." She allowed her little brother to take Mr. Crowley from her grasp, and watched as his little fingers curiously examined the stuffed doll.

"You did a good job, _mi florecita_."

Marigold jumped and nearly fell backwards, but a pair of large skeletal black hands caught her in time. Xibalba chuckled as he lay his daughter back on her feet.

"I was just taking a look, papi…" Marigold said, thinking her father would be mad at her.

"It's okay, my sweet. I'm actually surprised you got to calm Alastor down." Xibalba smiled at her, ruffling her hair playfully, before walking closer to the cradle and gently picking him up. "Aww, your big sis is watching over you, isn't she?" But when Mr. Crowley slipped from Alastor's grasp and back into the cradle, he started to sob, making his father panic.

"He liked Mr. Crowley, papi." Marigold said, pulling on her father's cloak.

Xibalba quickly grabbed the stuffed crow and shook it over Alastor's face. "Shhh, don't cry, son. Look, here's your friend Mr. Crowley!" Immediately after recognizing the sound, Alastor's sobs stopped and he grabbed unto the crow's wing tightly. Sighing in relief, Xibalba walked towards the small couch and sat down, cooing at his son and rocking him back and forth to lull him back to sleep. Marigold approached and climbed unto the couch, watching as Alastor yawned and his eyes started to shutter.

"You used to be just like this…" Xibalba told her, momentarily glancing down at her with a smile.

"I was?"

"Yes, you were such a _cosita_. Sometimes you'd cry just so that your mami and I would pick you up, or you'd pull on my moustache." The dark god couldn't contain a chuckle. "At least Alastor hasn't done any of those things yet."

It wasn't long before Alastor fell asleep, and snuggled into his father's embrace as he snored lightly, still clutching unto Mr. Crowley. Xibalba planted a kiss on Alastor's forehead, standing up and walking towards the cradle to tuck him in warmly. "_Que duermas bien_, my son."

Marigold tiptoed closer to her father to avoid awakening her baby brother yet again. "Isn't it tiring to be waking up when he cries, papi?" she inquired.

"It is exhausting, but it's worth it for your baby brother." Without warning, he scooped his daughter in his arms and peppered her cheek with kisses, making her laugh. "And for you too, _mi florecita_!"

Marigold hugged her father tightly as he carried her out of the nursery, and back to her room. "I love you, papi."

Xibalba kissed his daughter's head. "I love you more, _mi pequeñita_."

* * *

Two days later, a great _fiesta_ was thrown to welcome little Alastor into the world. Most of the throne room, ballroom and dining hall were decorated in blue this time because he was a boy, and unlike his elder sister he seemed to like being the center of attention to some extent. He suckled unto his pacifier, shifting and moving into his little 'badger' basket, his amber eyes curiously looking at his surroundings, but never losing sight of his mother. La Muerte smiled down at her child, stroking his head gently as he grabbed unto Mr. Crowley with one hand, and with the other he grasped unto her finger.

Around them, most of the women were gathered around the basket, fawning over Alastor, while everyone else was celebrating. Marigold peeked into the basket, and as soon as he spotted her, Alastor reached out for her once more, gurgling and blowing tiny saliva bubbles, making the rest of the Remembered around them fawn even more.

"Aww, he's a cutie!"

"He likes you, princess!"

"He's a smart little baby!"

"When can I play with him, mami?" Marigold inquired, playing with her brother's fingers.

"He's too young to play, _chiquita_." La Muerte gently replied, tickling Alastor's belly playfully. "But don't worry, in a few months you'll be able to play with him."

Alastor grabbed unto Marigold's hair and pulled it, making his older sister yelp in pain, and he giggled in delight. La Muerte gently released her daughter's hair from his grasp. "No, no, Alastor. _Eso no se hace_."

A few minutes later, Xibalba teleported into the throne room and approached his family with a mischievous grin, hiding something behind his back. The spirits made way for him, and went back to the celebration. "How's our baby doing, _mi amor_?"

"He's perfectly fine, Balby." La Muerte said, lovingly tucking Alastor into the basket as she noticed he was hiding something.

"What do you got there, papi?" Marigold inquired.

"I got a gift for your little brother." Xibalba explained, before peeking into the basket with a playful grin. "Alastor, look what papi got for you!" he brought a hand forward, holding a colorful caterpillar toy just above his son's head and shaking it. Alastor stared at it curiously for a while, and after a few seconds he reached out his other hand for it, temporally forgetting about Mr. Crowley. Xibalba chuckled as he allowed the baby to take it.

"He liked it, papi!" Marigold chirped happily.

"Aww, I'm flattered." Xibalba smiled, tickling his son's belly.

Suddenly, Alastor tried to stick out his tongue at his family, though they were not sure on where he had learned it. Marigold stuck her tongue back at him in a playful manner; he blinked in surprise, before sticking out his tongue again at her. La Muerte and Xibalba laughed softly as they watched their children stick their tongues out at each other.


	19. Chapter 19

When Alastor turned one year old, their parents took him and Marigold to Aztlan, to the annual Spring Festival. The gardens were blooming with flowers of all sizes, types and colors, their fragrance attracting bees and hummingbirds. The other gods were impressed that Marigold was such a responsible sister at seven years old. She'd play with him out in the garden, pointing out at objects and repeating their names so he would repeat them, under the watchful eyes of their mother.

"Look, Al!" Marigold pointed at a monarch butterfly drinking nectar from a nearby flower. "That's a butterfly! Bu-tter-fly!"

Alastor watched at the little critter with wide eyes. "Butfly!" he cried out in delight, holding out his hands for it.

"Yeah, like that!"

La Muerte watched fondly as her elder daughter kept pointing at and naming objects, while Alastor repeated them, or at least tried to. The party wouldn't start until later, so they had lot of free time, and what better thing to do than to spend some time with her children? After a while, Alastor grew bored of repeating words and instead crawled towards his sister, climbing unto her lap and reaching out for her hair. Marigold was quick to brush all her hair away form his grasp, she couldn't understand why he had such an obsession with her hair.

"Mamá, Alastor's pulling my hair again!"

Giggling, La Muerte stood up from her seat and walked closer to her two children, sitting down next to them and gently releasing Marigold's hair from Alastor's grip. Alastor held out his hands for his mother. "Mama."

"You don't pull on girls' hair, Alastor." La Muerte mildly scolded her son. "That's not right. You could hurt them."

"Madigod." Alastor now called out for his sister.

"Don't worry, Al, I forgive you." Marigold crawled closer to her baby brother and patted on his head, grinning when he grabbed her fingers. "Just don't do it. But don't worry, I'll let you play with my wings."

La Muerte smiled at her two babies (three, counting Xibalba when he was in a playful mood), she loved to see how well they got along. After a while, Xochiquétzal arrived through the archway into the garden.

"La Muerte, we need a bit of help with _something_." She giggled, glancing at Marigold and Alastor playfully.

"Hold on a sec, I'm coming." La Muerte replied gently, before glancing back at her children. "Marigold, would you mind watching over your brother for a while? I'm telling your _tío_ if he can come over to keep an eye on you."

"Sure, mamá."

Alastor was having none of it, he had the feeling his mother would leave and he started sobbing while holding out his arms for her. .

"Aww, it's okay, my darling." The goddess stroked his cheek gingerly. "Mami's got something to do, but I'll back later."

La Muerte went back to her feet and followed Xochiquétzal out of the garden, but when he lost sight of his mother's _sombrero_, Alastor started to wail. Marigold panicked and tried to do the same her parents would often do to soothe him down. "Shh, don't cry, Al! Mamá is just going to help auntie Xochiquétzal with something, she'll be back in a while!" she told him, holding him close and bouncing him, stretching out her wing so he could touch it. "Here! You can play with my wing!"

Alastor gurgled at the familiar sight of his sister's dark feathered wings, and his little hands were soon ruffling the feathers curiously, but not strong enough to pluck them… yet. Marigold giggled at the ticklish sensation, before she felt a dark aura in the place, even though she was very young she was very perceptive. She instinctively pulled her little brother closer and wrapped her wings around him, looking around to see if anyone was around.

After all these centuries, Aztlan hadn't changed a bit. It was still as beautiful and majestic as the last time he was here, he never thought he'd return after what happened. He just wanted to take a glance at _her_, and he found she had not changed a bit either. She was still an angel of kindness and mercy with the sweetest smile and the warmest gaze one could ever find. Then he saw her two children, a girl that was almost her splitting image with a mix of her father's traits, and a soon-to-be-toddler that looked much more like his father.

Deep down, he was still resented at how things turned out between them, and yet he couldn't do anything about it; he had barely escaped from Xibalba's wrath when _it_ happened, so it was not like he could show his face around here without risking being caught. Sadly, soon Xochiquétzal came and took La Muerte away, leaving the two children behind. He couldn't help but watch with a small peck of fondness as they played in the garden, until the girl named Marigold probably felt his presence and pulled her little brother closer.

"H-Hello?" she called out, looking around the garden in alarm.

He hesitated. Should he reply? She could cry out for help, and the last thing he needed was being exposed. Still, he was intrigued at how she was protectively clutching her baby brother to her, just like La Muerte could be very protective of those she held dear.

"I'm here, dear child." He whispered, only loud enough so that she could hear him.

Marigold glanced towards the bush where the voice had come from. She wrapped her wings tightly around her brother despite his protests and squeals. "Who are you?"

"Just a friend." He replies simply.

"Could you come out?"

"If I come out, you will fear me."

"No, I won't. I promise."

She watched as a great beast slithered out of the bushes. It was a big snake, the biggest snake she had ever seen, with red scales that had grown a bit rusty for a reason she couldn't explain. He had two pairs of white ivory horns on the sides of his head, and darker red rhombus-shaped markings running down his back, while his golden snake eyes were staring down at her curiously.

Rather than being frightened by this much larger being, Marigold was fascinated. "You're a big snake!"

The oversized reptile blinked in surprise. "Are you not afraid of me?"

"No, I love snakes. My papi likes them too." She tilted her head. "Why? Should I be?"

"…No, dear child. You should not worry about me, I'm no danger for you nor your little brother."

Alastor finally found his way out of his sister's wings, and stared up at the stranger with wide eyes. "Poña?" he pointed at him.

"No, Al, he's not Ponzoña." Marigold giggled, before looking up at the serpent. "I'm sorry, mister, he calls all snakes like that. Al, he's…"

"You may call me Víbora," the snake bowed his head politely. "But I'm afraid I do not know your names." He actually did, he head heard his beloved speak them, but he wanted to create a sense of familiarity with the children.

"Oh, I'm Marigold, and this is Alastor."

"Ator!" Alastor gurgled, suckling on his finger.

There was a small grumble sound in the garden, which might have been Víbora chuckling. "He's sure a smart infant, isn't he?"

"Yup. But why were you hiding in the bush, _señor_ Víbora?"

"Let's say I'm not very popular around here."

"Why?"

"Something I did in the past… All I will tell you is that I hurt someone I didn't mean to hurt."

Marigold could tell he didn't want to talk about it, so she opted not to pressure him about it. Alastor finally escaped form his sister's protective embrace and crawled towards the giant snake without the slightest sight of fright, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes. Víbora glanced down at him, and watched in surprise as the infant's tiny fingers ran over his scales, giggling at the scaly sensation. Víbora couldn't help it, he smiled a bit, he wasn't usually fond of children, but there was something about these two that he liked.

"You are so much like your father." The snake sighed. "I'm so sorry."

"You know my papá?" Marigold asked curiously.

"Well, sort of, our paths have crossed in the past."

"Does it mean you know my mamá too?"

"She is an old friend, though unfortunately we have grown estranged and I haven't seen her."

"Would you like me to go look for her-?"

"No!" Víbora blurted out of sudden, before noticing Marigold's surprised look. "Errr… I'd prefer if you kept our little encounter a secret, Marigold. I'm not precisely… popular these days."

"Okay. But would you at least tell me how do you know my parents?"

"It's a long story, dear child."

"It'll be a while before my parents come back, so I think we have plenty of time."

Víbora thought for a moment. If he had arms and shoulders, he would have shrugged. "Oh, well, I guess it won't do bad." He curled up around the two children, careful not to hurt Alastor, who by then had been pulled back into his sister's lap. The basilisk took a look around to make sure there was no one around before resting his head on the ground. "I met your mamá when we were kids. We became friends almost instantly, and we'd spend time together, after a while I met your papá when your mother introduced him to me. Turns out he befriended him in the Land of the Living, and I didn't realize it until much later. As we grew up, I started to have feelings for La Muerte, and as it turned out, Xibalba fell in love with her too. But soon it became clear la Muerte loved _him_ back, an eventually he proposed and they got married." Víbora sighed sadly. "That's when I lost her as a friend."

"Why?"

"I didn't take their wedding like she thought I should have, I was envious of Xibalba because he managed to earn her affections, and it destroyed me. I lost her friendship, and now she wants to know nothing of me."

Marigold felt sad for him. "I'm sorry for that."

"Don't worry, Marigold. That's all in the past."

"Well, I don't think you're a bad person. Why do you say no one here likes you?"

"I… I did something stupid, and I'll leave it like that." Suddenly, Víbora sensed a small vibration in the ground. Someone was coming. "I have to go."

"But-!" Marigold couldn't tell him anything else as he slithered away, back into the gardens, where he wouldn't be found. Just as she was about to stand up and go after him, her parents walked into the garden and noticed she was glancing at the bushes.

"What are you looking for, sweetie?" Xibalba inquired curiously.

"I…" she recalled that Víbora asked her not to tell anyone of their encounter. "I thought I saw a fox!"

"Since when are there foxes here?"

"It could be a pet from any of the others." La Muerte replied, kneeling down to check on her younger child when Alastor gurgled and reached out his hands for her. "Aww, _hola, bebito_." She chimed, picking him up. "What did your do with your big sister all this time?"

"Vibroa!" Alastor gurgled.

The humor left both Xibalba and La Muerte's faces, while Marigold froze in dismay. Her brother had ratted them out.

"Vibroa! Vibroa!" Alastor didn't apparently notice the serious looks his parents had, as he kept parroting the word.

"Marigold, when did he learn that word?" La Muerte asked her daughter softly, glancing at her older child. "We won't get mad, sweetie, we just want to know."

"I… I…" Marigold didn't know what to say, she froze when she felt her parents' eyes on her.

"_Mi florecita_." Xibalba kneeled down and took his daughter by the shoulders. "This is important. When your mother left, was there someone else here in the garden with you?"

Knowing they had probably figured it out, Marigold started to tremble. "Don't be mad at him, he was very nice."

"Marigold, how did he look like?"

"He was a big red snake with horns and yellow eyes."

La Muerte failed to contain the gasp that escaped her throat as he pulled her baby closer. Xibalba immediately started checking his daughter for any signs of injury, or some sort of spell. "Did he do something to you? Did he hurt you?"

"No, papá, he just chatted with me. He didn't do anything bad."

Alastor ceased with his parroting of Víbora's name when he realized it bothered his parents, and he snuggled into his mother's embrace seeking her warmth. Xibalba caught the sound of branches snapping, and he immediately went back to his feet, pulling Marigold behind him protectively.

"La Muerte, take the children inside." He spoke firmly.

Marigold looked up at him in confusion. "What's wrong, papá?"

"Go with your mother, Marigold."

When he didn't call her _mi florecita_, or sweetie, she new he was being serious, and allowed her mother to take her hand and take her and her baby brother away. When he was certain they were out of earshot, Xibalba narrowed his eyes at the bush. "I know you are there, Víbora."

The basilisk slowly slithered out of his hiding spot, and returned the dark god's unfriendly expression. "Xibalba. Long time no see."

"What are you doing here?" the dark god hissed with sharp teeth.

"Me? Nothing in particular, I was just taking a glance at La Muerte. I hadn't seen her in so much time, she's still as beautiful as the last time I saw her…"

"You mean when you nearly _defiled_ her?" Xibalba clenched his fists and his grip on his staff tightened almost to the point of breaking it, while he stared at Víbora with a gaze full of hatred. "The only reason I didn't kill you was because even though you hurt her, she didn't want you to die. But I told you that if you ever came close to her again I'd kill you myself."

"I have not come looking for trouble, Xibalba. Like I said, I had no intentions to hurt her, just take a glance at her and see if she had changed a bit. She hasn't." Víbora's voice-and gaze-softened. "Your kids are beautiful, by the way. Your daughter, in particular, she reminded me of La Muerte when we were children."

At the mention of his children, Xibalba flared out his wings threateningly. "Stay away from my family. Leave my wife and my children alone or I'll have you executed like I should have done the first time you tried to hurt la Muerte."

"I repeat to you, Xibalba, I have no intention to do any harm to your kids. I actually like them a bit. That's a great achievement for any child, considering I do not tend to like brats, but those two are something different."

Xibalba turned his back on the basilisk, refusing to look at him again. "I've warned you. Now leave, before I call the guards and they take you before Quetzalcóatl and Tezcatlipoca."

As he watched Xibalba slither away, Víbora kept glaring at him until he was gone, but he said nothing more. He simply turned around and retreated back into the gardens to find the way he had come. He might have it against Xibalba, he still was angry at him, but those two children had nothing to do with it. They were La Muerte's children, a piece of her, and he'd never bring harm on anything that she loved, not even Xibalba, not now.

Perhaps… one of these days he'd get to talk a bit more with little Marigold.

* * *

**I know what you're going to say, Víbora is much more passive in this story than he is in the others, but in this au rather than being imprisoned he was banished from Aztlan and the Lands of the Remembered and Forgotten, he didn't remain all those centuries locked away, isolated and driven mad by his grief. **

**Hope you won't find it disappointing, but I've got a surprise for you in later chapters!**


	20. Chapter 20

Alastor let out a little yawn as he rested his head against his mother's chest, snuggling into her embrace as she hummed a lullaby for him, holding him close as she swayed the rocking chair gently. The infant god sneezed and sobbed, La Muerte stroked his little head gingerly, soothing him down. A few minutes later, Alastor fell asleep in his mother's embrace. Smiling, La Muerte stood up from the rocking chair and silently walked over to Alastor's crib, where she gently tucked him in, and planted a kiss on his forehead. "_Que sueñes con los angelitos, mi bebé._"

The goddess gently turned off the lights to a dim glow, and silently closed the door shut behind her to leave her child to rest for the night. Alastor shifted in his sleep, dreaming with his parents and his sister for what seemed like hours when in reality only an hour pass, when everyone was asleep. He was so deeply asleep he didn't hear someone coming in. He didn't notice that person picking him up and carrying him out of the room as silently as it had come in. All he did was to shift in his sleep, dreaming the night away.

* * *

Next morning, Marigold awoke before her parents, wanting to play a bit with her little brother. She tiptoed across the hall to her brother's room, but when she was about to open the door she noticed it was already open. She wondered if her parents were already inside, but she heard no sound coming from the nursery. Marigold stepped inside and found that, indeed, there was no one inside. She silently crept towards her brother's crib, and took a peek inside, but she gasped in shock when she found the crib empty.

Before panicking, she decided to take a look around, perhaps he had woken up and climbed out of his crib-it wouldn't be the first time, sometimes he did just that. Marigold looked around the nursery, beneath the furniture, under the crib, and in the toy chest, as well as among the plushies, she once found him napping there, but soon she realized her brother was not anywhere. _Now_ she panicked. She found her feet carrying her out of the nursery, and down the hall.

"Mamá! Papá!" she burst into her parents' room.

Xibalba and La Muerte were startled awake when Marigold burst into their room, scared out of her wits, though each reacted in a different manner. Xibalba instinctively buried his face into the pillow with a groan to try and go back to sleep, while La Muerte sat up and held out her arms for her as her daughter ran into her arms. "What's wrong, _chiquita_?"

"Alastor's missing!"

When those two words left her lips Xibalba instantly awakened and La Muerte nearly had a heart attack.

"What do you mean?!" La Muerte held her daughter's shoulders tightly, with an expression of shock and worry displayed over her face.

"He's not in his crib, he's not in the nursery! I can't find him!"

In a fraction of seconds, the two gods had teleported into the nursery and glanced into the crib, only to find it empty. La Muerte gasped in horror and bewilderment. "A-Alastor…!"

Xibalba turned to see his wife with a worried expression. "La Muerte-!"

"ALASTOR!" the goddess instantly started to turn the nursery upside down, desperate to find her child, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"La Muerte, calm down!" With some difficulty, Xibalba managed to grab his wife by the shoulders, but he wasn't prepared for her sorrowful fury.

"CALM DOWN! OUR SON IS MISSING AND YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN?!" She screamed, hitting her husband's chest in despair, trying in vain to release herself from his grasp.

"We don't know what happened! Maybe one of the servants took him out for a walk! You won't solve anything by freaking out like this!" Xibalba pulled her closed in an embrace, despite her attempts to wiggle out of it. "I'm as worried as you, but let's not make rushed conclusions. I'll get to the bottom of this, but please, calm down!"

"Mami…?"

La Muerte reacted when she heard Marigold's little voice. The little goddess was in the doorway, staring at her mother with teary eyes, she was afraid for her baby brother as much as they were. Taking her hand to her mouth, La Muerte made her way to her daughter's side and kneeled down to pull her into a hug. Marigold buried her face into her mother's neck, sobbing.

Xibalba sighed sadly and approached his wife and daughter to place a hand on Marigold's shoulder. "Everything will be okay, _mi florecita_. We'll find your brother, don't be afraid."

Still sobbing, Marigold glanced up at her father. "You promise?"

"I promise." With those last words, Xibalba flew out of the nursery and down the hall, roaring for the captain of the guard.

Marigold sobbed into her mother's chest. "Where's Al, mami?"

For the first time, La Muerte didn't know what to say to her daughter, when she was just as worried. "I don't know, sweetie… But he'll appear…" she wished she could be certain of it, but she was truly afraid that something had happened to her baby.

She could only hope.

* * *

When Alastor woke up, he soon realized he was not in his cradle, not even in the nursery anymore. Everything around him was dark, with a bit of light filtering through some holes. The young god managed to roll unto his belly and crawled forward, though he didn't know where he was going.

"Mama?" he called out for his mother instinctively, but there was no reply, not even a sight of her. Soon he was out of that dark place which gave him ticklish sensations, and found himself in the middle of a desert, there didn't seem to be anyone around. "Mama!" his eyes scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of a big red _sombrero_. His eyes swelled up with tears when he found none, and soon he was bawling, crying out for his mother desperately. It didn't pass long before his cries caught the attention of a passerby creature, but he was too afraid to even notice.

Víbora was utterly surprised when he heard a baby crying out of nowhere. He looked around to see where it came from, and noticed it was coming from a nearby bush. Confused, Víbora slithered closer to make sure he wasn't imagining things, but much to his bewilderment he found the little godling from a few days ago crying his heart out. Alastor sniffled and looked up to him; he apparently recognized him.

"Vibroa?"

If the circumstances were different, he would have laughed, but he couldn't believe the little one was down here, and by himself. Víbora glanced around to see if there was someone around, but they were alone. He felt Alastor's little hands touching at his chest. The basilisk looked down at the infant curiously.

"And how did you get here, _amiguito_?" Víbora inquired, though he did not expect a reply.

"Mama." Alastor gurgled in reply, glancing around yet again, sobbing.

Víbora thought for a moment. He couldn't just leave Alastor here by himself, something could happen to him. There was another, much more important unanswered question: how had he gotten here? Someone must have brought him, but who? Obviously not his parents, it must have been someone who wanted to harm the child. He didn't want to imagine the worry and pain La Muerte must be going through, he never liked to see or even know that she was sad. He had to return Alastor back to his parents.

But the question was how would he do it? If he simply appeared with the child in the castle, they would think he was the one who stole the child. He had to find a way to give Alastor back without them knowing it was him. Carefully, Víbora picked Alastor up by the pajamas with his teeth, making the infant godling squeal in surprise, and slithered towards the Land of the Remembered.

He knew one person who could help.

* * *

**Eight hours later**

* * *

"Don't worry, your little brother will appear."

Marigold was still sobbing, even though Antonia patted her shoulder and José and Pedro did their best to make her feel better, but it was to no avail. She was too worried about her baby brother to even hear what they were saying.

"But what happened?" José inquired.

"I don't know… Mamá said she had tucked him in the cradle as always. Everyone is starting to think someone kidnapped him." Marigold's eyes swelled up with tears once more. "I'm scared…"

"I don't think anyone would hurt him. He's cute!" Antonia stated.

Suddenly, a boy ran towards them, looking scared out of his wits. "M-Marigold…" he panted with wide eyes. "There's someone who wants to talk to you!"

"Who?"

"It's a big snake with horns! He was scary!"

Marigold's eyes went wide in surprise. Thanking the boy and waving her friends goodbye for now, she ran down the path the boy had indicated. She ran into one of the many plazas, this one currently desert with no one around. A single tree was in the middle of it, and lots of many other types of trees surrounded it, like a small clearing in a forest, except for the stony path.

"Hello?" Marigold called out.

"Psst. I'm over here."

Recognizing Víbora's voice, Marigold panicked and glanced around looking for him. Víbora peeked his head out of various bushes close together big enough to hide him completely from view. Hesitating, Marigold approached the bush where the basilisk was hidden.

"Why did you want to see me, _señor_ Víbora?" Marigold asked nervously. "I'm sorry, but papá told me I shouldn't talk to you."

"I won't take much of your time, dear child. There's something urgent I must tell you… or rather, show you."

"But papá was really serious about it-"

"Madigod?"

The little goddess froze when she heard that familiar little voice. Could it be…? It was coming from the bushes. Víbora's head disappeared into the bushes for a few seconds, before re-emerging once again, this time holding Alastor carefully by the pajamas once more. As soon as he saw his sister, Alastor gurgled and held out his little arms for her. "Madigod!"

"AL!" Marigold carefully but quickly grabbed her brother from Víbora's mouth and hugged him tightly, she was so happy to see him she didn't mind him pulling on her hair. "You're okay!"

Víbora couldn't help but smile a bit at the sight, his heart warning at how she was such a loving sister. Soon he became serious again, however. "I found him in the middle of the desert, alone. Someone left him there."

Marigold looked up at Víbora with lit up eyes. "Thank you very much, _señor_ Víbora! I don't know why mamá and papá told me not to get close to you if you're nice."

"Like I told you before, I did something stupid and they don't forgive me."

"But, if you come with me to the palace and I tell them you brought Al back, maybe they'd change their minds-"

But Víbora shook his head. "No, Marigold. They'd probably think I was the one who kidnapped you brother and have me arrested, and you'd get into trouble. I don't want to cause you any conflicts with your parents, much less with your father."

"But-"

"It's for the best, little one. You should take your baby brother back, I can't imagine how worried your parents must be about him. If they ask you where you found them, tell them a stranger returned him to you. But do what you do don't mention me. Can you promise me that?"

Marigold hesitated, but eventually she had to nod her head. "I promise."

"Good." Víbora nodded his head with a small smile. "Now go." He disappeared into the bushes once more. But this time he did not come out.

* * *

Xibalba walked into the nursery with an anguished expression, and found his wife still in there, sobbing her heart out while gripping on their son's cradle. The sight broke his heart. He hated to see his beloved sad. "La Muerte-"

Immediately, La Muerte ran to him and grabbed his shoulders, glancing up at him with bloodshot eyes "Did you find him?!"

Sadly, the dark god shook his head. "We've looked everywhere, but no one knows where he could be…"

La Muerte nearly collapsed as she burst into tears yet again, but her husband pulled her closer and helped her regain on her feet. She buried her face into Xibalba's chest, sobbing uncontrollably, fearing for the wellbeing of her child. What if something had happened to him? She wouldn't bear it. Her family was the most cherished thing she had. Her poor baby was probably cold and hungry, and on the prowl of who knew what kinds of beasts. La Muerte remembered when he was born. It had been hours of agony, but she forgot all about the pain when she heard his tiny wailing for the first time ever. She remembered his smell as she held him in her arms, singing a lullaby and tucking him into bed, the feeling of his lips as he suckled from her breast.

"Shh, it's okay, _mi corazón_." Xibalba cooed, pulling her closer and stroking her head. "Everything will be alright."

"I want to hold him in my arms…" La Muerte choked in reply. "What if something happened to him…?"

"No, don't say that. I promise you, we'll find him safe and sound."

"Mamá! Papá!"

When they heard Marigold's footsteps in the hall, La Muerte tried to calm down a bit. Her daughter was already worried enough about her little brother to make her worry even more. However, when Marigold crossed the door, her heart nearly stopped when she realized she was holding…

"Mama!" Alastor held out his arms for his mother as soon as he spotted her.

"ALASTOR!" La Muerte rushed forward and scooped Alastor into her arms, holding him close and peppering his face with kisses, startling the little one and making him sob. "_Mi niño_!"

Xibalba joined his wife in her overjoy, and he started checking on his son for injuries. "Al, son, you're okay!" Both gods embraced their baby for a good while, before Xibalba kneeled down to embrace his daughter. "Where did you find him, Marigold?"

"Well…" Marigold wanted to tell him Víbora had returned her little brother, but she remembered he asked her not to. "A stranger returned him and said he had found him abandoned."

"When I find the bastard who dared do that to my son I'll have him skinned!"

La Muerte was still sobbing with joy, pulling her baby closer to her chest as Alastor grabbed unto her hair, but she still managed to glance down at her daughter. "Did he tell you his name? We need to thank him properly for bringing Al back."

"No, he didn't, mamá. He brought Alastor and then he left."

"Well, _mi amor_, what matters is that our son is safe now." Xibalba told his wife, before picking Marigold up and holding her close, pulling La Muerte closer with his wing. "We'll thanks this stranger on another occasion."

Marigold looked down sadly, wondering where Víbora would have gone now.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21- Magic 101

"Pssst. Marigold."

Marigold groaned in dismay when she felt her little brother shaking her awake, and she tried to find refuge in her pillows and her wings. "Alastor, it's two o' clock in the morning!"

The four-year-old godling didn't seem to get the message as he continued to shake her by the shoulder gently. "Come on, don't be a party-pooper!" he plopped face up on top of her. "The city's awake, and we must play!"

"Well, you can play by yourself." The ten year old goddess pushed her brother off her with her wing, while trying to go back to sleep.

Alastor rolled off bed and fell on his rear, but he did not give up. He climbed back unto his sister's bed and started shaking her once more. "Marigold!" he opened her eye, only for her to close it once again and wrap her wings around herself once again. He grinned playfully. "Do you want to practice magic?"

Marigold smiled as she glanced back at her little brother.

* * *

Soon the young gods were running down the halls, giggling as Marigold shushed at her brother to keep him from awakening their parents, who were most likely asleep. They ran into the ballroom, where they had seen many balls and parties held by their mother, and closed the doors shut to keep any noise from leaving the room and alert any of the servants to their presence. Once they were in the middle of the ballroom, Marigold grinned at Alastor. "Ready?"

He nodded enthusiastically.

Since she had turned ten years old, Xibalba and La Muerte had started teaching their daughter how to use magic and her developing powers as customary among the gods, since it turned out Marigold had been passed down both dark and light powers respectively from them. Her dark power consisted on a bit of umbrakinesis, the ability to see into someone's soul and pyrokinesis, while her light power was more harmless, like making flowers grow, turning into rose petals to teleport to nearby places and calm down people. However, she was still young and learning, so they told her it was better that she didn't use her powers without an adult's supervision yet until she had a better control on them or she could hurt herself.

In Alastor's case, he mainly got dark magic from his father, his most prominent ability being shooting out tar from his hands or summoning green fire among other things. But since he was only four his magic was weak and still in development, and it only manifested briefly when he was on an emotional turmoil (such as a tantrum) or when it 'wanted to'.

Both the two siblings liked to practice magic by themselves, when Marigold could show her little brother what she had been learning. He often tried to imitate her, even though the most basic spells she used were too much for him due to his young age. Like his father, Alastor was stubborn and more often than not he tried to cast the same spells as his more experienced sister no matter how many times she told him not to do it.

Concentrating her energy, Marigold twirled one of her hands over the floor until a small flower sprouted from the tiles and blossomed into a white rose. "That's how you grow a flower."

"Cool! I want to try!" Alastor chirped excitedly.

"It's easy, all you have to do is concentrate your energy on a particular spot and think on what kind of plant you want."

Alastor closed his eyes shut and started concentrating his magical energy on the ground in front of him, in his mind he imagined a sunflower sprouting, but when something did grow it was a tiny sprout that wasn't taller than a few inches. When Alastor opened his eyes to see his creation, he was disappointed that it was such a tiny thing. "That thing is not even a flower!"

"Well, it is your first time, it's normal."

"Can you teach me how to teleport?"

"I'm don't think that's a good idea. Mamá said it's too complicated and dangerous for godlings like us, she has not taught me that yet. She says if we don't do it right we could trap ourselves between realms."

"Aww, man!" Alastor whined. "I don't mean teleporting between realms, I mean from one place to another, like from my room to the bathroom."

"Oh, that. Well, that's much easier." Marigold told him, turning into a swirl of rose petals and flying around the room before returning to her true form and landing next to her younger brother. "It's almost the same, you have to concentrate energy and hold it for as long as you want."

"That's all?"

"But since it's your first time you should first try to stay a few seconds in the form you take before you try to move around."

"Nah, I can do it." Once more, Alastor concentrated his energy, but a while passed and nothing happened. A minute later he grew irritated. "Why is it not working?"

"Maybe because you're too young, perhaps we should try something else-"

"No! I want to do it!" For a second time, the godling concentrated his magical energy with all his might. This time, though, he managed to change into a non-corporeal form-only that instead of rose petals, he turned into a cloud of gray smoke-for a few seconds before changing back and falling down on his rear with a thud. But there was a look of excitement in his skeletal features. "Yay!"

"That was great!" Marigold clapped her hands enthusiastically. "You should be able to change for more time with a bit of practice."

"Teach me how to use fire!"

Marigold's grin disappeared. "Oh, no, Alastor. That's too dangerous, you could get burned and mamá and papá would get angry at me!"

"Come on, Marigold! Just show me how to do it! I won't try it! I just want to see!"

"You promise?"

"I promise."

She still was reluctant, but nevertheless Marigold decided to comply just this once. "Okay, stand back." When her brother took a few steps back, Marigold concentrated her energy on her palm and tried to control it as best as she could. For a moment, only a puff of smoke emanated from her hands, but after a while a small pink fireball ignited on between her palms, warm and harmlessly flickering as gently as fire could. Alastor's eyes lit up in awe.

"Cool! Can you make it bigger?"

"I could try, but-"

"Make it bigger!"

"Al, it's risky!"

"Please, Mari!" the dark godling made the puppy face at his sister. "Pleaaase?"

Marigold sighed. "Okay, but only a bit." She concentrated more magical energy on her palms, and the fireball grew a few inches bigger and it emanated more heat than before. When she noticed the amazed look on her brother's face, she grinned. "Would you like to see a trick?"

Alastor nodded his head enthusiastically. He watched as Marigold threw the fireball upwards and it exploded into a small firework display, before the sparks disappeared completely. He clapped his hands happily. "That was awesome!"

"I haven't showed it to papá yet, I want to improve it, so you mustn't tell."

"Come on, I would never do that! He'd probably ask how you learned to do it."

"We should get back to bed, it's late and if someone catches us we'll be in trouble. Let's go."

The siblings snuck out of the ballroom and silently ran across the hall back to their rooms. Alastor waited until Marigold had closed the doors to her chambers to skip across the hall to his own. Surely it wouldn't hurt to practice a bit on his own. He spent the next half-hour trying to make a flower sprout until he managed to create a decent-sized flower bud, and turning into a cloud of smoke, but what he wanted to try was the fireball thing, even though he promised Marigold he wouldn't try it.

Oh, well, what Marigold didn't know wouldn't hurt her, would it?

Alastor concentrated energy on his palms and tried to summon a fireball like his sister, but all he could conjure up were puffs of smoke. After a few minutes, he grew frustrated. "Come on! Why is it so hard to conjure a stupid fireball?!" He tried once again, but nothing came out, other than smoke. However, a few tries and puffs of smoke later, he managed to summon a small fireball between his cupped hands. Alastor chirped in excitement when he saw the cackling fire.

"Yes! I did it! I can't wait to show Mari!" but as he was about to go to her room, he looked down at the flame and noticed it was too small, at least compared to that of his sister's. Maybe… if he could make it bigger…

Alastor tried to concentrate more magic into the fireball to make it bigger. A few seconds later, the flame started to grow, but then it became bigger than his hand.

"Nonono!" panicking, he tried to fizzle it out, but the fire kept growing.

His scream echoed in the castle as the fireball exploded.

* * *

If there was something that both Marigold and Alastor had in common, it was getting into trouble with their parents. They were in their bedchambers, sitting on the couch while looking down guiltily as their parents glanced down with a gaze of disapproval and disappointment. Alastor's hands were bandaged; luckily he was not hurt, he only got first degree burns on his hands, but other than that he was fine.

After minutes of silence, it was Xibalba who spoke first. "What happened, children?"

Alastor was afraid to answer the question, but the longer he took to answer the more impatient his father would be. "I tried to make a fireball…"

Xibalba narrowed his eyes at his son. "Where did you learn to make fireballs? I reall your mother and I told you that spell was too advanced for your age." He knew where he had learned it, but he wanted Marigold to admit it.

"I showed him how to, papá…" Marigold replied, crossing her arms guiltily. "He wanted to learn some spells."

"Marigold." La Muerte said gently. Unlike her husband, she was not too hard on her children, although she had some severity in her gaze. "You knew your brother was too young to learn that spell. As the eldest you should have thought on the consequences it might bring."

"Don't be hard on Marigold, mami." Alastor sobbed. "It was my fault. She didn't want to teach me, but I used the puppy face on her. She made me promise I wouldn't try to do it, but I broke my promise."

"It doesn't matter, Alastor. The both of you have an equal share of the blame here, Marigold shouldn't have taught you the fireball, and you shouldn't have tried to cast it without an adult." Xibalba stated hardly, though his gaze was on both his children.

Both Marigold and Alastor looked like they were going to cry, though they did their best to contain it. La Muerte noticed this, and sat down between the two to pull them into an embrace.

"_Niños_, You have to understand that what you did was risky. Al, you were lucky that you only burnt your hands, but what would have happened if it had been something much more serious? Your sister told you not to try to cast that spell by yourself, but you didn't listen. We don't want you to get hurt, baby."

Alastor snuggled against his mother's embrace, sobbing.

Then the goddess turned her attention to her daughter. "Marigold, it's okay if you want to show Alastor what you've learned, but you must not forget he is only four and he doesn't have the same magical ability as you yet. Even if he gives you the puppy look, you must learn to say 'no' from time to time, okay?"

Marigold nodded solemnly. "_Sí_, mamá."

Xibalba felt a bit jealous that La Muerte could handle this with much more ease than he could, but then again, she was always a natural with kids. Still, this reckless act couldn't go unpunished, as much as he disliked to ground his children. "For the time being, you two are grounded with no dessert privileges, and no magic for two weeks. Understood?"

Both Marigold and Alastor nodded without another word. They didn't want to keep arguing with their father, they didn't want to dig themselves deeper graves.

"Good. You may go." As his children returned to their rooms to go back to sleep, Xibalba sighed sadly.

"What's wrong, Balby?" La Muerte asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't like to be so hard at them, I don't want them to see me as the evil ogre of the story."

"Oh, come on. You're not an ogre, you just did what you thought was right. I don't like to ground them either, but we can't overlook these kind of things all the time. Our children need discipline every now and then."

"I know…" Xibalba sighed once again, but he bushed deeply when he felt La Muerte's lips come into contact with his cheek.

"Let's go back to bed, Balby." She smiled at him, her fingers running up his shoulder, only to yelp in surprise when her husband picked her up bridal style out of sudden.

"And do what?" he purred seductively, earning giggles from her as she curled his moustache with her finger.

"Ay, Balby."


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22- A Father's Fear

* * *

"Al, get back here!"

"Whee!"

Marigold groaned in frustration as she chased her little brother around the halls of Aztlan. Really, her father and her brilliant idea to bring Garra and Colmillo, now she had to chase after Alastor while he rode on top of Colmillo like a horse, something the hound didn't seem to like. Garra just went along, playfully going after them; she was grateful her father had already taught her how to fly.

"Come on, Mari! Don't be a party pooper!" Alastor called back, laughing all the way.

"You are going to break something, and mamá and papá will get mad!"

"Don't worry, what's the worse that could happen?!"

Eventually, they came to the gardens, and she still chased after her brother. Colmillo was getting tired from running, but there was nothing he could do as Alastor pulled on his ears playfully. His father had said he was too young to ride a horse, but he didn't say anything about riding a hound, did he? Marigold was about to catch her little brother when suddenly he turned in a sharp turn; a few seconds later, when she turned around the corner to go after Alastor, she bumped into someone. Marigold and the stranger fell to the ground, temporally stunned and confounded.

"_Lo siento_!" she cried out in dismay and embarrassment. "I didn't mean to-"

The other person stuttered nervously. "I'm s-sorry, I d-didn't mean t-to-!"

When Marigold lifted her gaze to meet with the stranger, her eyes widened in surprise. He was a bat-like godling with reddish skin, white and blue hair and naked wings, like those of a bat, and big ears. There was a pair of glasses in his nose, which made his golden eyes look larger than they actually were. His face turned all red when he saw her, and his ears dropped, giving him a cute appearance. It seemed like he was of her same age, maybe a year older.

"Oh… _hola_." Marigold started, glancing at the bat godling. "Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah, miss…" he gulped, not really knowing what to reply. It was the first time he ever talked to her.

"Here, let me help you." Marigold stood up and held out her hand for him, smiling lightly.

He stared at her hand for a while, before taking it and standing up as she helped him, but his face was all red with embarrassment. "_G-Gracias_…"

"What's your name?"

"I'm C-Camazok, s-son of Camazotz." He stuttered, trembling nervously.

"I'm Marigold, daughter of La Muerte and Xibalba." Marigold blushed. "Sorry for running into you, I was just… My little brother passed through here and I was trying to catch him."

"Yeah, I know, he nearly ran over me on top of that big dog." Camazok couldn't help but laugh a bit at that.

"Sorry about that, my father brought his hounds and Alastor loves riding on top of them because papá won't let him ride Medianoche. He hasn't even let _me_ ride his horse, he says he's too spirited for us."

"Your dad sounds mean."

"Oh, no, he's the best father ever! He plays with us, and he tells us stories before we go to sleep, and he comforts us when we are sad."

"Oh, I get it. You're lucky." Camazok looked down sadly. "At least your father cares about you. Mine doesn't even acknowledge I exist, he prefers my older brother."

"Oh, I'm sorry for that."

"Don't worry, I'm used to it."

Marigold realized she had spent too long speaking with him. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Camazok, but I have to go look for my brother. If he breaks something mamá and papá will get mad."

"I could help you. I don't have much to do, anyway, other than hide from my brother. He's always teasing me."

"I wouldn't like to bother you…"

"It's no bother, really."

Camazok and Marigold ran down the path of the garden, calling out for Alastor. However, it seemed he had gone far in the time they had been speaking, he was not in the surrounding area nor the pond. Marigold couldn't help but feel frustrated, really, she loved her brother but sometimes he just drove her mad. Soon, they came into a beautiful clearing with a pond, red macaws resting on the tree and a certain four-year old godling asleep, resting against Colmillo's furry body. The two hounds were also resting on the ground, asleep, though Garra heard footsteps and lifted his head to see who had come; he lowered it back to the ground when he realized it was Marigold, ignoring Camazok altogether.

Marigold sighed in relief. "Thank heaven."

"Wow, your little brother can get to ride those two wolves?" Camazok couldn't help but tremble a bit when he saw the hounds.

"Don't worry, they may look scary, but they're actually playful when they want to be." Marigold thought for a moment. "Well, actually Garra is the most playful one, Colmillo doesn't like to play as much."

"Your father only has these two?"

"Nu-uh. He has a whole pack back in his realm, but Garra and Colmillo are his favorites."

"Hey, Marigold, since we don't have anything to do right now, we could… you know, chat a bit, at least until your little brother wakes up. What's his name, by the way?"

"His name is Alastor." The female godling couldn't help but giggle when she noticed how Camazok was blushing. "You're look cute when you're nervous."

Camazok blushed even more and he shifted his wings closer to his body, dropping his ears. "You'd love to see me around my dad, then…"

"Well, I don't mind. You're not like the other kids around here, actually."

"Yeah, I've heard that Tlaloc's daughters teased you once. Sorry about that."

"It's okay, it's all in the past."

"At least your father defended you. My dad doesn't move a finger to help me, he says I have to learn to fend for myself."

"That's really nasty."

The two sat down in the garden, a few steps away from Alastor and the hounds. They chatted over simple things, mostly about their families, hobbies and things they liked, until they noticed the sun was setting, and Marigold heard a voice in the wind.

"Marigold! Alastor! It's time to go!" It was Xibalba.

Marigold stood up and walked closer to her little brother and shook his shoulder. "Al."

Alastor stirred awake, and his eyelids cracked open? "Huh? What is it?"

"It's time to go, Papá is calling out for us."

"Would you mind carrying me? I'm tiiired…"

"Alastor!"

Camazok watched the scene fondly. Seeing that her brother wouldn't budge, Marigold lifted him up unto Colmillo's back once again, much to the hound's annoyance. She whispered something into the hounds' ears, and they slowly walked back down the path they had come, Garra making sure Alastor wouldn't fall off Colmillo's back. Marigold glanced back at Camazok. "Well, I guess I'll see you around, Cam."

Camazok blushed at the nickname, but he didn't really mind. "Yeah… See you later, Marigold…" he watched her go down the stony path following the hounds carrying her little brother, with a small smile. He hoped he would see her again, she was very nice to him.

A few minutes later, Marigold had already left with her family on the beautiful coach they had arrived, since it would be more comfortable considering their family had grown. It was pulled by Medianoche and La Muerte's favorite horse, a milky white mare named Blanca, and casually controlled by Miguel. Inside, Alastor had fallen asleep in his mother's lap, while she held him in her arms against her chest, also asleep. Even Garra and Colmillo, managing to fit in there, were curled up at their feet, napping. Marigold was on the process of falling asleep against her father's chest, feeling his wings wrapping around her and his hand stroking her head tenderly, until Xibalba spoke.

"What did you do today, _mi florecita_?" he inquired gently.

"Hmmm?" Marigold mumbled, snuggling against her father's embrace.

Xibalba chuckled. "I asked you what you did today, my sweet."

"Chase Al around the garden."

"I can see that, if you're that tired."

"I lost him for a while, but Camazok helped me find him."

Xibalba's smile faltered for a few seconds. "Who?"

"Oh, he's a friend. I ran into him by accident, but he still helped me find Alastor. We chatted for a while, and he told me his father was Camazotz. But who is he, papá?"

"Camazotz is a… god of darkness, my sweet."

"Like you?"

"Sort of. But he has a different lineage and power. He is not very popular in Aztlan."

Marigold yawned and laid her head against her father's chest once more. "I'm still glad to have met Cam, he's nice." With those words, Marigold fell asleep, leaving Xibalba to process what she had said.

* * *

Over the course of the past days, a beautiful friendship was born between Marigold and Camazok. Camazok would often visit her in the Land of the Remembered (with La Muerte's permission, of course) or they would get together in Aztlan, and play simple games like hide-and-seek and tag, or simply chat. Alastor often joined them, though he was quite jealous of Alastor, he had never liked to share his big sister with anyone, other than his dad, maybe.

Unfortunately, this was also Xibalba's case.

He watched them play in the courtyard, they were laughing and it sounded like they were having much fun, he watched his baby and that friend of hers turn into a trail of rose petals and a bat respectively, and Alastor tried to catch up with them. It was not that he disliked the young bat god, he was a good boy, it was the boy's father he was uncertain about.

"What's wrong, Balby?" La Muerte asked him one day when they were watching as the children played in the courtyard.

"Nothing, my dear…" the dark god replied, stirring his hot coffee with the spoon.

""Xibalba. Don't tell me you're jealous of Camazok."

"Jealous? Me?" Xibalba chuckled nervously. "Don't be ridiculous, _preciosa_! Why would I be jealous of a kid?"

"You have been watching them all morning. Don't you think you should give them some air, they're just children. It's not like they're doing anything wrong."

"I know, it's just… Watching them reminds me of when we were kids."

"Ay, Balby." La Muerte leaned against her husband, blushing as she felt his wing wrapping over her. "You still remember?"

"How could I forget? You were my only friend back then."

"How about the Candlemaker?"

"He doesn't count, he has to be acquainted with everyone. And I wasn't very fond of his… flamboyant attitude." Xibalba blushed deeply when he felt his wife's finger twirling his moustache.

"You haven't changed that much, you know." She spoke. "You're still cute when you're nervous."

"And you still have a nasty temper."

While she usually would have been annoyed at such comment, she was in such a good mood that she chose to ignore it this time. But she could tell it was something more than nostalgia that was bothering him. "Really, Xibalba. What's bothering you?"

Realizing she would not give up, Xibalba sighed. "It's the boy's father that worries me."

"Camazotz? What does he have to do in this?"

"We know he is horrible, what if the boy got something from him?"

"Camazok is very nice, I don't see him being like his father. It's his older brother who took after him."

"Don't remind me, that brat doesn't have respect for his elders." Xibalba glanced at Marigold and Alastor as they played tug-of-war against Camazok, and the bat god didn't seem to mind being two-against-one. Apparently he was used to being the 'victim', but this time he was finding it funny. "They seem very happy together."

"You're right in that, my love. I wouldn't be surprised if they became close in a few years."

"I can see it. I just hope not close in _that_ sense."

La Muerte pulled away from her husband's embrace and frowned. "Xibalba, Marigold is growing up. Someday she'll find a boy that she likes, as much as you don't like the idea, she is not a baby anymore."

"She is _my_ baby…" Xibalba replied, crossing his arms.

"What? You want her to become a nun so she won't have another man in her life?"

"I hadn't thought about that-OW!" he yelped when he felt a blur of marigold petals struck him in the face.

"_Xibalba_!" La Muerte snapped mildly. "You can't take decisions for our daughter! It's her life, soon she'll be old enough to take her own decisions, and that includes if she wants to hang out with a boy!"

"I was kidding, _mi amor_!"

"I'm serious, Xibalba. Don't mess into Marigold's life, she'll never forgive you if you do."

Xibalba didn't reply. He kept watching as his daughter kept playing with her brother, and her friend. She was so innocent, but he didn't know how long it would last. He didn't want to imagine her in the arms of another, she was his _bebé_, his _niñita_, he adored her. He was afraid to lose her should she ever get together with a boy.

He'd rather die before letting that happen.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23- Aniversario

* * *

Over the past few days, La Muerte noticed her husband was acting strangely. He acted like he was hiding something, and he was extra sweet and loving with her, bringing her bouquets of flowers (she already had her chambers full with vases of flowers) and surprising her by making breakfast for her. It was not that she didn't like it, but surely he was up to something. She also noticed how Marigold and Alastor had somehow turned into his accomplices, they'd keep her busy when Xibalba was not home. When she tried to ask them about it, they simply said they 'didn't know' anything about it. Oh, well, whatever it was, certainly her husband would tell her with time.

Speaking of which, the next day was their 7293th wedding anniversary, and Xibalba still had not told her anything about any plans to spend the day or anything, making her wonder if he hadn't forgotten. No, he would never forget their anniversary, all these years he never forgot a single one, and he wouldn't start now, would he? As she brushed her hair in bed waiting for Xibalba to arrive, she still wondered what he was up to. Whatever it was, it couldn't be a bad thing. It seemed tonight he would get home late again, so maybe it would be best to go to sleep. Placing her brush aside, La Muerte sighed and headed over to bed to lay down and cover herself with her blankets. There sure was a chill in the air tonight. Soon she had drifted off into a wonderful sleep.

A few minutes later, she was awakened by the sound of her door silently creaking open, and footsteps. However, she kept her eyes closed and pretended to be still sleeping. Xibalba smiled when he saw his wife had fallen asleep, and silently headed towards bed, not without first removing his armor, crown and gloves off so he could collapse beside his beloved wife and reach over to wrap his arms around her, covering her with his wings as well. Before falling asleep, he planted a small kiss on La Muerte's cheek.

"_Que descanses, mi corazón_." He whispered, before closing his eyes and falling asleep.

La Muerte smiled and snuggled deeper into his embrace, relishing the warm touch of his wings. "_Buenas noches_, Balby…"

* * *

The next morning, she was thought she awoke before her husband did, and was about to pepper him with sleepy kisses, but was surprised when she found that Xibalba was not in bed. It seemed he had already woken up earlier, though it was very unusual for him unless he was going to bring her breakfast to bed. Today was their anniversary, she wouldn't be surprised if he was making a surprise breakfast for her.

Just then, the door creaked open, but instead of Xibalba, Marigold and Alastor walked in with grins on their faces. "Good morning, mamá!"

La Muerte couldn't help but giggle as she embraced her children and kissed them good morning. "_Buenos días, chiquitos_. Have you seen your father?"

"Papi said he had an errand to do, but that he would meet you later." Alastor replied with a grin.

La Muerte wondered what they were up to, much like their father. "An errand?"

"He said it was a surprise." Marigold barely managed to suppress a giggle. "But he left a note for you." She looked in the pocket of her dress and took out a folded piece of paper. "Here."

Curious, La Muerte took the slip of paper and unfolded it to give it a read.

**Mi amor**

**Meet me at the place where our memories began when the sun sets**

**Love, Balby.**

La Muerte smiled and rolled her eyes. Really, Xibalba and his surprises. He was so romantic with his surprises, she just couldn't wait. Besides, she had to find something appropriate to wear for this occasion.

* * *

Hours later, La Muerte left for San Ángel, leaving Marigold in charge (again). Her little girl was responsible enough to take care of Alastor while she and Xibalba were out, but she still left her a small list of tasks in case Alastor got hungry, and so on. Dressed in one of her elegant dressss, she made her way down the bridge leading to the Proposal Tree. Ah, that place was very especial and had a deep meaning for both her and her husband. It was the place where their memories together began. Paths that they created through the desert and around the tree, while pretending to be wild injuns or wanted _bandidos_ being hunted by a posse.

When she reached her destination, she gasped in awe. A small path of candles and rose petals formed a small path towards a table covered in a white cloth, red-lit candles on top of it.

Xibalba emerged from the shadows, smiling tenderly at his wife as he saw how beautiful she looked, recalling when they met. She was watching the Mayan people going back into their huts for the night when he found her. A beautiful, kind godling with curiosity drawn on her features as he came forward to meet her; he had a mind to run away, not feeling worthy to speak to such a pure creature, but she looked at him, smiled and invited him to play with her in the village.

After that day they spent Springs and Summers chasing frogs and birds, skipping stones and looking for the shapes of clouds in the sky, sharing books. She could hit as hard as any boy he knew, which he learned when she once defended him from bullies. They had their own bridge to their own little fantasy realm, their own kingdoms of knights and castles. When he once told her he didn't understand why they were so different, she kissed his cheek and said that's how they're different before leaving him there feeling all funny while she picked wildflowers to put in her hair.

And centuries kept going.

Their more innocent days passed, and they matured into teens, when their friendship flourished into love, no one was surprised when they started dating, though there were some people who didn't like the idea. But they _never_ had eyes for another, they spent most of their time together. They'd go on picnics to 'their' place, casually chat while having tea or he'd take her on horseback to wherever she wanted, as long as he could be with her he didn't mind where they went, he'd take her to the end of the world if she wanted. When they became adults he started to court her properly, he'd take her hands and gently peck kisses unto her knuckles, surprise her with fresh flowers picked from the Land of the Living's most exquisite gardens, or take her out to dinner in either the Land of the Remembered or any places in the human realm.

It wasn't long before he asked her for her hand in marriage, and she was more than happy to accept. The wedding took place a few months later, though La Muerte was not that extravagant and said she was happy with a small but emotional ceremony, but he wanted to give her a dream wedding. He made sure everything was perfect for her, though ironically his attempts countered right back on his face when Ponzoña and his hounds lost the rings by accident, and they found them in the last moment without anyone noticing, not to mention the cake was squashed by Colmillo when rushing to recover his ring. Still, La Muerte had been far from upset, and she actually thought it was funny. He would never forget when he and his beloved consummated their union, the first night he made her his, and his alone, he was as tender as a lamb like he were touching a fragile flower, though he knew she was far from being defenseless.

Sadly, he was summoned to war between the Old World gods a few years later. She begged him not to go, fearing he might get killed, but he assured her he would die; he promised her he would return to her safe and sound. And he spent a few decades away fighting in the Old World, though he and his wife were not cut off form each other, they'd write to each other and chatted about what had been happening in their extremes of the world. He never touched another woman in all that time, although he had been tempted various times; no, his heart belonged and would always belong to only one woman.

La Muerte approached her husband and placed her hands on his shoulders with a smile. "Ay, Balby, you never cease to amaze me."

Xibalba returned the smile as he stroked her cheek with one hand while pulling her closer by the waist with the other. "Anything for you, _mi corazón_. I wanted it to be special, I know how much it means to you."

"You're still as sweet as an apple pie."

He chuckled as he released his wife and pulled back the chair meant for her. "Milady…"

The goddess couldn't contain a giggle as she sat down on the chair. "_Gracias_, Milord."

"For dinner, we have some cheese ravioli, and a berry and chocolate tart for dessert."

"You cooked?"

The dark god chuckled as he snapped his fingers, and two plates with warm cheese ravioli covered in sauce and adorned with some herbs appeared in a flash of green fire on his hands, placing them on the table. "Like I said, it's a special occasion, I wanted it to be perfect for you."

"But you were never good at making pastas, my love. Did you make them by yourself?"

"Why, you hurt me, my dear! Of course I did!"

La Muerte gave him smirk and crossed her arms. "_Balby_."

"…Fine, Regina helped me." Xibalba admitted, sighing. "But only in making the dough."

"It was still very sweet of you, _mi vida_." She stroked his cheek, and he melted at her touch, smiling goofily. She had always had this effect on him ever since their childhood; sometimes it drove him mad, but oh well, he loved the feeling of her fingers tickling through his tarry skin and run through his beard.

They spent most of dinner just chatting about casual things, and remembering the good old times. Mostly their childhood adventures, like when Xibalba would sneak into La Muerte's room through her window when she was ill, often taking her flowers or her favorite chocolates to make her, or they'd play in the meadows of Aztlan, making flower crowns for each other.

"And that time when you introduced me to Medianoche for the first time." La Muerte giggled, taking a sip from her wine.

"Don't remind me…" Xibalba sighed in dismay, taking some ravioli into his mouth and swallowing before speaking again. "I tried to impress you by riding him but all I managed was to look like an idiot."

"He was a foal yet at that time, Xibalba. Foals are not used to carrying people on their back just yet, besides I found it funny when you threw a tantrum about it."

"Since when is the silent treatment considered a tantrum, Muertita?"

"You don't need to be taking it personal. I still think it was nice of you taking care of him even in secret."

"You knew my father… he didn't like animals unless they were for eating…" Xibalba muttered under his breath, before changing the subject. "So, you liked the pasta?"

"It was delicious, _mi vida_." La Muerte gently wiped the cheese sauce from her lips with a napkin and placed her fork on the now-empty plate. "I wish I could cook as well as you."

"Your food is not that bad, my dear."

"The first time I tried to make something for you I sent you to Toci's place."

He chuckled in remembrance. "It was not your fault. You couldn't have known that you had to wash the rice before boiling it."

"Your father thought I tried to poison you."

"I'm glad Quetzalcóatl cleared things up…"

After they finished eating, La Muerte was caught by surprise when Xibalba teleported behind her chair and picked her up bridal style. "Balby, what are you doing?"

"It's another surprise, _mi amor_." He whispered into her ear seductively, earning some giggles. "I have yet to give you your present, remember?"

"You don't have to, my love."

"Trust me, you'll like it."

La Muerte didn't say anything else, she simply lay her head on his chest. He had always been very retailing with the gifts he gave her, very romantic, but she wondered what he would give her this time. Xibalba teleported into the courtyard of his wife's castle, which looked beautiful at night. The beautiful tree was adorned with white lilies, and lit with colorful lamps.

"What is this gift you wanted to give me?" La Muerte inquired when her husband placed her back on the ground.

"Hold up your hands and close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Trust me, _mi amor_."

La Muerte did as told, and a few seconds later she felt a small weight on her hands as Xibalba placed something on them.

"You can open your eyes, my dear."

She did so, and gasped when she saw a beautiful music box resting in her hands. It was colored red, with carefully painted golden swirls and white and yellow _calaveritas_. Curious, she opened the lid, and a beautiful melody started to play, while an image of two birds, a dove and a crow fluttering around each other in perfect harmony, appeared.

"Ay, Balby…" she was so moved she felt the corners of her eyes stinging with tears of endearment and joy. "It's beautiful." She recognized the melody almost immediately. "It's our song…"

"_Feliz aniversario, mi corazón_." Xibalba smiled at his wife, stroking her cheek with his thumb and pulling her close with the other. "_Te amo_…"

La Muerte returned the smile as she brought one of her hands up to stroke his cheek. "_Yo también te amo, mi vida_."

They leaned in for a kiss when they heard giggling coming from one of the nearby bushes. Xibalba recognized those giggles anywhere. When they turned towards the bush, the laughter stopped; smiling playfully, he motioned his wife to remain silent as he teleported away, a few steps behind the bush to see who dared spy on them. La Muerte curiously watched as he snuck on the 'intruders', but burst out in a fit of gentle laughter when Xibalba took the two by surprise and lifted both Marigold and Alastor from their hiding place.

"Papá, put me down!" Marigold protested

"Papá!" Alastor tried to wiggle out of his father's grasp.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you two are supposed to be in bed by now." Xibalba said, laughing as he placed his children back on the ground.

"Marigold wanted to see you kiss!"

"I didn't!"

"You did!"

"I didn't!"

"That's enough, _niños_." La Muerte scolded her children gently. "Go to bed now."

"Si, mamá."

Xibalba just watch in surprise as his two children went back into the castle so easily while it took _him_ about half an hour of pleading and bribing to get them to go to bed. "Sometimes I wonder if they respect you more than me, my dear."

"Hummm…" La Muerte pulled the music box closer to her chest as she leaned against his shoulder. "I don't think so, my love. They love us equally, but sometimes I think Marigold likes you a _little_ bit more."

He chuckled and wrapped an arm around his wife. "Well, Muertita, how about we go inside to have some fun?" he purred, running a finger down La Muerte's shoulder seductively.

La Muerte giggled. "Ay, Balby."

He was such an old rascal.


	24. Chapter 24

Women's Business

* * *

Alastor had always clung to his sister ever since he was born. He played with her, talked with her and they did many things together, they were very close. He never minded that she was a girl and he was a boy, he never really understood what was the difference. However, lately, his big sister had changed not only physically, but also emotionally.

Ever since their mother had taken her aside to talk about something not long after her twelfth birthday, things started to change. For once, he couldn't go and sleep with his sister when he had a bad dream, he couldn't now simply go into her room at all, he had to ask her before. Not only that, but he noted her body was starting to change as well. Now she looked like she had two small balloons or balls in her chest, and it felt like a pillow wherever he hugged her, but she never let him touch them. Her rear was swelling up lightly too, and somehow her waist was also changing.

She was also starting to change emotionally. She was not as funny as before; sure, they still played together, but there were certain games she couldn't play anymore, such as tag. He was angry. He wanted his old sister, the one who would play tag and ball with him, and let her sleep with her when he had a bad dream. And she said she could not tell him about it, claiming it was a 'woman's thing'.

He hid in the courtyard, behind one of the trees, hugging his knees. His father said he was going to teach Marigold how to fly a few days ago, now that her wings were big and strong enough. Alastor had always wanted to see his sister flying, it was one thing he envied about her, but now he wasn't certain. He just wanted to be alone. He didn't want to see his sister right now.

"Alastor?"

Luckily, it was not her. But he still didn't reply. Xibalba noted he was upset about something, but he didn't know what. Naturally, he grew worried and sat down next to him.

"Is something wrong, son?" he inquired, wrapping a wing around him.

Alastor didn't say anything. He just hid his face into his 'cocoon'.

"Come on, Al, you know you can tell me anything." He patted his shoulder. "Don't you want to see your sister flying?"

After a while, the godling finally spoke. "No."

Xibalba's smile disappeared when he heard that single word. "But I thought you wanted to see her, you didn't stop talking about it ever since you learned why she had wings."

"I don't want to see her anymore."

"Did you have a fight with her?"

"No."

"Then what's wrong?"

"She's different."

_Shoot_. "Oh, that… what do you mean with that?" Xibalba actually knew what his son was talking about, but he wanted Alastor to let it out.

By then, Alastor's eyes were swelling up with tears. "She doesn't play with me like before, and I can't sleep with her when I have bad dreams. And she's changing."

"Well, son, she's growing up, it's normal that she can't spend time with you like she used to, she's becoming a young lady."

"But why does she have to grow up! It's not fair! I want my old sister!"

"It's normal, but growing up is inevitable. You're going to grow up someday as well, but it'll be different because you're a boy-"

"What's the big difference?! Why must there be a woman's business and a man's business! I don't find it any sense!"

Xibalba sighed, but he grew alarmed when out of sudden Alastor burst out in tears, though the godling tried to muffle his sobs with his arms. What could he say? He didn't know much about the 'woman's business' either, he was also bothered that Marigold had started to talk much more with her mother than him, but he guessed that with the 'puberty' it was natural, since La Muerte had gone through the same thing.

"Alastor… I know it's hard, but girls are different from boys. They become women, and it's not easy. It's always been like that, women are much more emotionally fragile than men, and they have to go through things we may never imagine." He was talking about carrying children inside their bodies and then giving birth to them, among other things he didn't fully understand, but Alastor was too young to be told about it. "They mature sooner than us, and their intuition is… sharper. Imagine what your sister is going through right now, she's going through the transition from childhood to womanhood, it's not easy for her." And he didn't like the idea that she was growing up, but alas, what could he do.

"That means she's going to grow more distant?" Alastor trembled at the idea, and he didn't even look up at his father.

"No, but things are going to be different. See, when boys and girls reach a certain age they… well, their hormones change and makes them act differently. Sometimes things they thought repulsive, such as kissing, become natural things, and they even feel affection for someone of their opposite gender. That's called love."

"I know." Alastor replied curtly.

Realizing his son was likely not listening to him at all, Xibalba sighed and placed his hand on his shoulder once again. "Al, you don't have to feel bad about Marigold growing up, she still loves you and always will. You're growing up too, and maybe someday you will grow a handsome beard like mine." He chuckled, patting Alastor's shoulder.

This gave little comfort to the young godling, however. He spent the rest of the day inside his room, hearing Marigold and their father's laughter as he taught her how to fly, and he even glanced outside from his window, and saw them in the sky, fluttering around. He was still upset, however, and he soon went to the opposite side of the room to hide behind his bed, hugging his knees once more. It wasn't long before he heard tapping on his window.

"Al!" Marigold was calling out for him. "Look at me! I'm flying!"

She sounded so excited, but he was still upset, and he pulled his knees closer to him, hiding his face in them.

"Al!" she continued to tap on his window. "Are you in there?"

Finally he couldn't take it anymore, and he blocked his window with his curtains telepathically. Marigold's joy evaporated when out of sudden the curtains of her brother's window slid closed, she was bewildered. Xibalba noticed this and flew closer to her. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

"Alastor closed his curtain on me…" she sounded really hurt.

Xibalba didn't know what to say. "Maybe…" he had no explanation either.

"Is he angry at me?"

"I don't think so, sweetie. Did you fight?"

"No."

"Well, _mi florecita_, I guess that's something you'll have to ask him."

A few minutes later, Marigold made her way to Alastor's room, but she found the door locked. She knocked on the door. "Al?" there was no reply. "Are you in there? Do you want to go flying?"

Alastor did not move an inch from where he was; he just stayed there, hiding from the world and from his sister, even though she continued to knock on his door. She continued to knock the door for a while, until finally she gave up, walking away with her gaze cast down sadly.

* * *

And things continued like this for days, Alastor avoided his sister wherever he could, and wherever she managed to catch up with him he acted distant with her, no matter how much she tried to get him to spend some time with her. She had promised him that she'd take him flying when she learned, but he didn't want to go anymore. She felt hurt by his indifference, especially because she did not know why he was so mad at her.

La Muerte was quick to caught on to what was happening.

"Have you noticed that Alastor has been acting strangely?" she asked her husband one night, just before going to bed. "He's been distancing from Marigold."

Xibalba wasn't sure if he should tell her what Alastor had told him, but assumed it would be best. "It's… complicated."

"You know something?"

"A few days ago I found Alastor in the courtyard, he seemed so upset that I asked him what was wrong."

"What did he tell you?"

"Well… He was upset that Marigold is growing up. He doesn't want her to, he thinks she will stop loving him if she does."

"Did you try and talk to him?"

"I did, but he didn't listen at all."

"I'll try to talk to him in the morning."

Xibalba sighed. "I hope you'll have better luck than me, my dear."

* * *

Next morning, La Muerte knocked the door of her younger son's room. "Alastor? Darling, are you in there?"

It took a while, but Alastor replied. "Si, mamá."

"May I come in?"

"Okay…"

La Muerte opened the door and walked into her son's room; it was adorned mostly in blue and a bit of purple, contrasting his sister's pink and white. Right now Alastor was on top of bed, hugging his knees and his face buried into his pillows. She never liked to see him sad. "Al?" La Muerte sat down on the edge of bed next to him. "What's wrong, _mi niño_?"

"I'm okay." Alastor lied, but his voice was shaking.

"Don't lie to me, _mijito_. Your father told me what happened a few days ago…"

Alastor stiffened.

"I know it's hard for you to know your sister can't interact with you like she used to do, but she is growing up, and girls have a unique way that requires them to act more subtly around boys."

"But why are girls so different from boys?"

"It's a complicated matter, it's not only a matter of physical traits, emotions count to. Girls are more prone to sensitivity and emotion, their bodies also change. It's not easy for a girl to grow into a lady." La Muerte gently stroked the godling's head. "Someday you'll grow up too, but you're a boy and it'll be a different process. Your father will talk about it with you when the time comes. You can't blame your sister for going through what every girl and boy go through, even though in different forms."

By then, Alastor had silently burst into tears, and before he knew he was in his mother's embrace, burying his face into her chest as he sobbed. La Muerte pulled her son close and planted a kiss on his head, cooing and whispering sweet words to him.

"Al?"

La Muerte turned towards the door at the voice, but Alastor didn't; he just kept sobbing in his mother's embrace. Marigold had come to try again to coax him to come and play with her, and was surprised when she found the door open and Alastor in their mother's arms, crying his heart out into her chest.

"Al?" Warily, Marigold approached her brother, her eyes glossy. "_Hermanito_, why are you crying?" When he did not reply once again, she stepped forward and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder; as soon as she touched him Alastor finally couldn't take it anymore after days of being apart from his sister, and lunged into her arms, bawling. His sister, who embraced him tightly and started to cry along with him, soon joined him. La Muerte smiled sadly at her children and embraced them tenderly, pulling them close to her.

About an hour later, Xibalba went towards his son's room to see how it had turned out, and found La Muerte just closing the door silently. "Muertita? What happened?" He was surprised when La Muerte smiled at him and motioned him to keep silent, then opened the door slightly so he could take a peek inside. Silently, Xibalba took a peek through the door, and found Marigold and Alastor on bed, asleep, cuddled next to one another. He mirrored his wife's smile as he closed the door. "One of these days you should give me lessons on parenting, _mi amor_."

"My darling, all he needed was some comfort." La Muerte stroked his cheek, giggling as he blushed. "And you can't be taught how to be a parent. That's something you have to figure out by yourself."

Xibalba chuckled and pulled his wife close by the waist. "But you still deserve a prize for succeeding in what I couldn't, my love."

Once more, she giggled. "Ay, Balby."

They shared a passionate kiss.


	25. Chapter 25

Marigold's eyelids cracked open, and she was met by a throbbing headache. She didn't know where she was, but she could barely see she was inside a cave, on top of a bed made from leaves. Stirring on top of the bed, she managed to sit up despite her aching body and wings.

"You're awake."

Marigold jumped at the familiar voice, and she turned around to find Víbora curled up a few steps away from her, staring at her with worried eyes. "Víbora? Is that you?"

"Who else could I be, child?"

The young godling looked around and gulped, wrapping her wings around herself. "Where am I? What am I doing here?!"

"That's precisely what I wanted to ask you, child." Víbora replied gently. "I found you unconscious near the river bank with a big bruise on your head. A few hours later and I wouldn't have been able to help you."

"I… I don't remember…"

"What were you doing before you fell into the river?"

"All I recall was being with Al and Camazok… We were near the riverbank playing, then Camazok saw some ripe fruit on the other side and he crossed over a trunk to get us some. But when I tried to cross over, I tripped and I fell into the water. Everything after that is a blur…" she had faint images of Camazok diving in after her, Alastor calling out for her in terror and a glimpse of her hand slipping from Camazok's as the current carried her away.

"I guess you knocked your head on a rock and lost consciousness." Víbora concluded, rather correctly.

Marigold rubbed her sore spot, but flinched when it ached. "It hurts…"

"I healed it the best I could, but it will be best if I take you back to Aztlan. Your parents must be worried sick about you." He didn't want to imagine the pain La Muerte must be going through right now. He had to help her.

"Where are we, by the way?" Marigold inquired.

"A few kilometers away from Aztlan, I couldn't risk taking you in your state for… well, you know."

"Yes, mamá and papá would think you were the one who hurt me."

"We shall depart in the morning, for now it's best to rest. You'll need all your energy, after all."

How right he was. Marigold felt sore all over, and she wanted to sleep. Resting back on the leaf bed, her exhaustion soon made her drift off. However, she was very worried about her parents, and her little brother, wondering how things were going back in Aztlan.

* * *

Her tears had already dried.

There was not a greater pain for a mother than to lose her children, and it was much worse if she didn't even know if she was still alive or not. La Muerte confined herself in the chambers lent to her family while they stayed in Aztlan, she had not the courage to go outside and be met with bad news, that Marigold was either death or had not appeared, she wouldn't know what she would do if something happened to her daughter. To any of her two children, they were her reason to live, apart from Balby. Speaking of which, she wondered if he had already returned from the search party, they had left hours ago and there were no news from them yet. What if something had gone wrong? She wanted had wanted to go with him, but Alastor needed her, he was suffering for his older sister too.

"Mami…" the little godling sniffled, snuggling deeply into her embrace. "I'm sorry…"

"For what, _mijito_?" La Muerte managed to speak without choking back a sob, stroking her son's head tenderly.

"It was my fault… I should have saved her… But I was too scared…"

"It wasn't your fault, Al. You couldn't have known what would happen, and you did not push your sister into the river."

"But I'm her little brother, I'm supposed to take care of her…"

"It's okay if you want to protect your sister, but… Don't forget you're much younger and less experienced, you can get hurt more easily. Your papi and I wouldn't bear if you had gotten lost too…"

It offered little comfort to Alastor, however. "You think Mari will be okay?"

"Everything will be okay, _mi niño_." La Muerte planted a kiss on his head. "You'll see, your father will find Marigold and he'll bring her back, then everything will be okay." She hoped this with all her heart, she was certain Xibalba would find her. He had to.

Meanwhile, a few miles away, the search party had come to a stop, it was very late and they would have to go back to the palace soon. The jungle was very dangerous at night, but unfortunately, a certain dark god was having none of it.

"Be reasonable, Xibalba-"

"Reasonable?!" Xibalba roared, his teeth turning into fangs, his wings outstretched and all ruffled up. "My daughter is somewhere in this jungle, maybe injured, hungry and in danger and you tell me to be reasonable?!"

"Look, we know you are worried." Candlemaker said, lifting his arms defensively. "But think! It's very dark and we won't be able to see anything, not to mention there are wild animals around here at this hour!"

"Exactly! She's at the mercy of those beasts and that's why we have to keep looking!"

"Lord Xibalba, this argue will get us nowhere." Tezcatlipoca stated firmly. "She is your daughter, we know that, but how are you going to save her if your recklessness gets you wounded?"

"_Maldita sea_! You're starting to sound like my wife!"

Zipacna tried to intervene. "_Hermanito_, calm down! I know how you're feeling-!"

"No, you don't!" Xibalba's anger turned to his brother. "You have never had a child, Zipacna! You don't know what it's like to carry them in your arms and lull them to sleep, or comfort them when they're scared and sad!" His voice was shaking with pain and worry as he clenched his fists.

Zipacna was hurt by the retort, but he said nothing else, knowing his brother was right on that point.

"Calm down, you don't have to take it against us for wanting to help you!" the Candlemaker said. "But think! This jungle extends for miles, it could take us days or even weeks to explore it completely!"

"I don't care if I have to search in this damn, entire jungle, I'll find my daughter!"

Before anyone could do anything to prevent it, Xibalba was already mounting unto his horse, and kicked it into a gallop, getting lost in the darkness of the jungle. Zipacna tried to fly after him, but Tezcatlipoca stopped him. "Let him go."

"What?! What if he's eaten?!"

"It's Xibalba we're talking about, Zip." Candlemaker said, though not less worried than Zipacna. "He's strong, he can handle anything that has the guts to stand in his way."

"I know that, but…"

"He's right on one, thing, we have no right to judge him for wanting to save his daughter." Tezcatlipoca stated matter-of-factly. "Fathers would do anything for their children's safety." That, and Xibalba was as stubborn as a _mula_, heck, maybe even more than one.

It hadn't been long since Xibalba left them behind, galloping through the dark jungle with his heart in his throat, snapping the reins and urging Medianoche to go faster. If it were any other horse it would have already spooked, but luckily Medianoche was already accustomed to darkness and he wasn't spooked so easily, not even if a jaguar came out of the bushes right now would he get spooked. The jungle was very lush and thick, since it was untouched with not a single batch of trees missing unless it was a clearing.

In such a place it was very hard to move on horseback, overall in the darkest hours of the night and at such a speed. However, Xibalba was one of the best riders in the pantheon and he could handle it, he maneuvered his steed through the thick foliage of the jungle with such grace that one might say he had learned to ride before learning to walk. Medianoche snorted and breathed rapidly as he galloped, sensing his master's anxiety, worry and anguish almost like it was his own.

Xibalba searched through a part of the jungle until he realized that just searching randomly thorough the place would do no good, and he realized Medianoche was already exhausted from having galloped all day without rest. When they came out into a clearing, the dark god pulled back on the reins, slowing Medianoche down to a trot, and then to a stop. As he suspected, as soon as they stopped Medianoche started panting, snorting and shaking his head, his ears flickering. A wave of guilt overcame Xibalba as he patted his horse's neck; the stallion's coat was even dampened with sweat.

"I'm sorry, _chico_…" he said, dismounting and gently rubbing Medianoche's head tenderly. "I didn't mean to exploit you like this…"

Medianoche didn't blame him, however, he was just worried about his daughter and wanted to find her as soon as possible. He was worried about her too, actually. Medianoche bent his neck around to rub his nose against his master's chest plate reassuringly, snorting. Xibalba couldn't help but smile a bit as he led the horse to a nearby creek to let him have a refreshing drink. Medianoche almost immediately bent down his neck and started to drink from the fresh, cool spring water.

Ponzoña finally slithered out from underneath Xibalba's chest plate, and both his heads seemed to be dizzy as they let out protesting hisses. Xibalba knew Medianoche was not the only one he had to apologize to. "I'm sorry, Ponzoña. I guess I didn't take you much into account either."

Ponzoña hissed in retort, nearly fainting.

"I'm just… I'm worried about Marigold, what if she is injured? I wouldn't bear if something happened to her, La Muerte would never forgive me if I broke my promise."

He still remembered their words before he left to search for their daughter, how he had brushed her tears away and gave her his word that he would not return until he found Marigold. He was a man of his word; he would find his daughter and take her home.

After a while, when Medianoche had regained his breath, Xibalba mounted unto him and went on his way once more, on a slower pace this time. The least thing he wanted was to injure his horse.

* * *

The next morning came quicker to her than expected, maybe because of her exhaustion. Víbora had woken her up with a small nudge, though he was careful not to move her much. Then they left the cave for Aztlan, though it would be a long trip. Marigold was on the basilisk's back for most of the time, but when she finally regained the strength to walk she advanced next to him, making sure she was not tripping every now and then. Unfortunately, it had started to rain not long after leaving the cave, forcing them to pluck a giant leaf from a tree to protect themselves.

"_Señor_ Víbora…" Marigold spoke after a while.

"What is it, child?"

"What happened between you and my parents that they don't want me to see you at all?"

"It's a long story… and not a pleasant one either."

"I'm twelve years old, you know. I'm not a child anymore, how bad could it have been?"

Víbora sighed in regret. Should he tell her? How would she react? After pondering for a while, Víbora finally decided to comply. "… Like I told you once, when I found Xibalba and La Muerte were getting married, I wasn't happy for her. That disappointed her, and told me that if I could not be happy for her, then I shouldn't bother to look for her anymore." There was hurt in his voice as he spoke. "That drove me mad. One night I drank too much… and I…" he stopped, reluctant to say the next words.

"What did you do?"

"I… I…" Víbora closed his eyes shut and looked away, not bearing to look at his love's daughter when he answered her question. "I tried to force myself on her."

Marigold's eyes widened in shock and horror, just like he feared she would. She must think he is the lowest scum, a terrible person, and he couldn't blame her.

"Luckily, for everyone, Xibalba arrived just in time and stopped me from committing that nefarious act. But my action didn't go unpunished, I was banished from Aztlan and forbidden from ever returning, not to mention your mother wanted to know nothing more of me afterwards. I can't blame her, I deserve it."

"Why…?" Marigold's eyes were swelling up with tears. "Why did you do it…?"

"I'm not happy with what I did, or rather what I nearly did, either. Sometimes when people are angry and hurt they do things that they regret later. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted nothing to do with me now, you have every right to hate me…"

"I don't hate you." Marigold replied simply. "Mamá says that everyone has the right to make mistakes every now and then, but what matters is that one regrets what they did and try to return to the rightful path."

"I'm not sure I will ever be able too… For years I have wandered through the realms trying to think of a way to atone for my mistake, but I haven't found any."

"Have you tried to talk to her?"

"I couldn't get closer to her even if I wanted to. Your father would probably kill me on sight…"

Out of sudden, a sword flew from the trees and dug itself unto Víbora's side; the basilisk hissed in pain. Marigold stepped back when suddenly a black figure galloped from the trees, firing a green fireball at Víbora and throwing him against a tree. His black blood mixed with the pouring rain on his scales.

"Marigold!" Xibalba quickly dismounted and flew towards his daughter; the downpour had soaked him to the bone (literally), and his mustache and beard dripped with cold water. "Are you okay?! Did he hurt you?!" he asked, taking her by the shoulders.

"Papá!" Marigold shrieked in shock. "I'm fine-!" She couldn't continue as her father pulled her close in an embrace.

"I'm so glad you're safe, _mi florecita_."

"Papá!" Marigold pulled away from her father's embrace and ran towards Víbora's bleeding, injured form. "You hurt him!"

Xibalba couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Get away from him! He's dangerous!"

"_Señor_ Víbora, stay awake! Don't close your eyes!"

Víbora felt tired as he bled, he fought to keep his eyes open. Marigold was shaking his head constantly to keep him awake.

"Marigold!" Xibalba finally had enough and started pulling her away from him. "Leave him! We must go back!"

"We can't leave him like this! He'll die!"

"He could hurt you!"

"He was the one who saved my life!"

"What?!" Xibalba glanced at Víbora, then at Marigold.

"He found me and healed me, he was taking me back to Aztlan!"

The dark god didn't say anything for a while, before glaring at Víbora with all the hate he could muster. "What did you use to bewitch my daughter, you miserable-!"

"Papá! Aren't you listening?!"

"Marigold, you can't trust someone like him! You don't know what he did-!"

"I do know! I know he tried to rape mamá once because he was jealous! He told me so! He could have continued to keep it a secret, but he didn't! I may not have known him back then, but he doesn't seem as bad as you said! He even returned Alastor!"

His eyes opened wide in shock and utter disbelief. "What are you saying…?!"

"When Alastor disappeared when he was a baby _señor_ Víbora was the one who returned him! He asked me not to tell you and mamá because he thought you would think he was the one who took him! But he returned him!" She noted her father looked like he didn't buy it. "Please! You have to believe me!"

The sound of the raindrops pouring unto the terrain and the trees was the only one that was heard for a while, as Xibalba processed what Marigold had just said. He glanced at Víbora's bleeding form., and approached. Marigold panicked, thinking he would hurt Víbora further.

"No, papá! Don't kill him!"

But as she grabbed unto his cloak Xibalba gently pushed her back; Ponzoña immediately slid down his master's cloak and towards Marigold's feet, wrapping around her and preventing her from intervening. Xibalba stopped in front of Víbora, and gently grabbed the handle of his sword, before removing it carefully from Víbora's side, making the basilisk yelp in pain.

"…Is it true what my daughter said?"

Víbora knew there was no point in hiding the truth any longer, he sighed. "It is."

"Why did you help me?"

"I didn't do it for you. I did it for _her_."

Xibalba kept staring at his sworn enemy for a long while, thinking on what he should do now. Finally, he let out a long sigh as he slid his sword back into its sheath.

Now, to find a way to bring him back to Aztlan.

* * *

Alastor had fallen asleep in her arms a long while ago, while she continued to stare through the window as the storm raged on. The search party had returned a few hours ago, but Xibalba was not with them, they said he had gone on ahead, refusing to go back without his daughter. But now that it was raining heavily she was worried now for both her daughter and her husband. The thunders had always scared her, but now she didn't care, all she cared about was to hear news about Marigold and Xibalba.

Just then, there was a knock on her door. It sounded urgent. "Milady!"

"What is it?" La Muerte asked, pulling her son closer to her when he started to stir awake.

The servant opened the door and took a peek in. "Your husband-!"

Immediately La Muerte stood up, unintentionally startling Alastor awake. "Any news from him?!"

"Mamá…?" Alastor groaned, before realizing what was going on. "Is Mari back?"

"Milady, your husband is back with your daughter and-!"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence since La Muerte had already turned into marigold petals and was making her way down the hall towards the entrance. When Xibalba stepped into the palace he was completely soaked, the hem of his cloak was drenched in mud and his moustaches hung from the weight of the water in them, leaving a trail of drops along with his soaked wings. Marigold was equally soaked, though not as dirty. The dark god was holding his daughter in his arms, clutching her firmly and rubbing at her, in case she was not receiving enough warmth.

Soon La Muerte materialized in the hall, placing Alastor on the ground. Their gazes met.

"MARIGOLD!"

Xibalba nearly jumped when La Muerte rushed toward him to take their daughter from his embrace, peppering her face with kisses and pulling her close, completely ignoring the fact that her own dress was getting wet.

"Mari!" Alastor soon joined his mother in hugging his big sister, and the three of them were soon holding each other tightly.

"Muertita…" Xibalba kneeled down to meet his family. "There's something you should-"You brought her back, Balby!" La Muerte was weeping of joy as she now gave her kisses to her husband. "Our _niñita_…"

"Mamá…" Marigold snuggled deeply into her mother's warm, protective embrace. "I was scared…"

"_Ya, ya, mi chiquita_. Everything's fine now…"

"_Mi amor_, There's something I have to tell you…" Xibalba gently placed his hand on his wife's cheek.

As if on cue, the doors opened once again and servants dragged inside an unconscious figure. La Muerte gasped in shock as she pulled her children closer. " X-Xibalba…?"

"I'll explain it later, for now he needs help." Xibalba sounded reluctant as he spoke, glancing at Víbora, then at his wife. "We should take the children to bed."

La Muerte watched as Víbora was taken away to Toci's place, before nodding and standing up, still holding Marigold in her arms as Xibalba led them back to their chambers for a warm bath.

He'd tell her what happened later.


	26. Chapter 26

Si Puedes Perdonar

* * *

After a warm bath, a tasty meal and a fairy tale, Marigold and Alastor were put to bed by their mother. When they were certain their children were fast asleep, La Muerte and Xibalba could talk about what happened. He didn't know how he would explain to his wife that Víbora had been the one to help them in numerous occasions from the shadows, but he had to.

"He returned Alastor?" La Muerte couldn't believe what her husband was saying.

Xibalba nodded, looking uncertain himself as he held his wife's hand. "That's what Marigold said. I didn't believe it at first, but she had no reason to lie. She asked me to spare him, though I could have cared less about what happened to that serpent."

"Xibalba, he returned our son!"

"Don't tell me you believe him!"

"Why would he lie about something like that?"

"Perhaps to earn our trust so he can stab us in the back when we least expect it. We know Víbora."

La Muerte sighed and glanced at her two babies as they slept peacefully next to one another. "Perhaps, but… A long time has passed. Perhaps we should talk to him-"

"Are you serious?!" Xibalba snapped out of sudden, letting go of her hand. "After what he nearly did to you, you still want to see him?!"

"Xibalba, it's been centuries! Maybe he's not the same-"

"How can you say that! People like him never change! La Muerte, listen to me! He's up to no good, I'm certain of it! I'm certain he has deceived Marigold, don't let him fool you too!"

"But-"

"You're not seeing him, end of discussion!"

"And since when are you in the right to tell me who I can or can't see?!"

"Ever since I vowed I would never let anything happen to you!" Xibalba cried in despair, now taking her by the shoulders. "I wouldn't bear if something happened to you… I nearly lost you once, I don't know what I'd do if I lost you… What would the children and I do without you?"

La Muerte's anger placated at those words. Deep down she knew he was not acting out of jealously, he trusted her blindly and would get his hands into the fire for her, as did she; he was just worried about her wellbeing, he was trying to protect her. But she knew Víbora, as cruel as he could be, he would _never_ hurt _her_. La Muerte placed her hand on her husband's cheek, and gently pulled him in for a short but tender kiss.

"Balby, it will be okay. Víbora is a serpent and is very skilled in the art of deceiving, but he would never lie to me. Believe me, I know him for as much time as you, I knew him before he changed. I just want to hear what he has to say."

Xibalba didn't say anything for a while, before he sighed and gently grabbed his wife's hand. "I understand, my love… If you really think you have to talk with Víbora, then at least let me accompany you. I want to be certain nothing will happen to you."

La Muerte could tell it was very hard for him, so she nodded her head solemnly. It was the least thing she could do. "Okay."

* * *

A few hours later, Víbora was awake, his eyelids slowly sliding open, and he found himself on top of a bed-the first time he slept on a real bed in eons- in Aztlan. He had faint blurs of what had happened, he was leading Marigold back to Aztlan before Xibalba came out of the bushes and injured him, he didn't remember anything else.

"You're awake."

Víbora froze when he heard that voice. That ambrosial, beautiful voice like that of an angel's. Even after all this time he had not forgotten it. Shifting, he scanned the room in search of the source of the voice and found himself staring at his beloved La Muerte… as always accompanied by her husband. Xibalba was holding her shoulders, and had a wing wrapped around her protectively, shooting the basilisk a warning look. La Muerte was just staring at him with a light frown, bracing herself.

"Víbora…" she said coldly.

Víbora couldn't find the words to speak. It had been so long, and he still could sense the fires of passion and strength in her, even after all this time she was still the strong, sure-of-herself, yet sweet and kind woman he fell in love with. When he shifted again, Xibalba tightened his rip on his wife and narrowed his eyes. "You better not try anything, Víbora. There are guards posted outside."

"I…" Víbora would have usually retorted with a sarcastic comment, but this time limited himself to simply saying. "I understand."

"I wanted to thank you…" La Muerte's frown softened. "…For returning Marigold… and Alastor."

"Anything to help you, _mi_-" he quickly stopped himself. "La Muerte."

"But why did you return them…? You had no reason to help me."

"I did have. I've never liked to see you sad, if you recall. Even after all this time, I still love you…" La Muerte stiffened and Xibalba took it as their cue to leave. But as he was about to gently pull his wife away from the basilisk, Víbora spoke again. "But you don't have to worry about it any longer. I know your heart belongs, has _always_ belonged, to someone else."

La Muerte was surprised by those words. After a few minutes of awkward silence, she glanced at Xibalba. "Balby, would you mind if I spoke to Víbora alone for a few minutes?" she gently stroked her husband's cheek with her hand when he was about to protest. "I promise you, only ten minutes."

Although reluctant, Xibalba silently nodded and let go of his wife, again giving Víbora a warning glare. Once they were alone, La Muerte frowned at Víbora once again and crossed her arms. "What are you up to, Víbora?"

"Nothing, La Muerte. I simply didn't want to imagine how you had to be suffering with your missing daughter."

"Not about that. Don't get me wrong, I'm very grateful you saved her, but that doesn't change the fact that I don't trust you. Trust is something fragile, and you broke it centuries ago when you refused to accept that Xibalba and I loved each other."

"I don't expect you to trust me, my dear. All I want you to know is that I'm sorry."

She blinked. "What?" Víbora wasn't of the type to apologize.

"I regret what happened between us that day. I don't know what came over me, I was angry, hurt that you were with another and I was so desperate that… well, you know the rest of the history. In fact, I think I deserved the punishment I was going to receive originally. I deserved to die."

La Muerte was speechless at his words. Víbora had not looked at her once, he was gazing down with sorrowful eyes. "Why did you ask I be spared? What I nearly did to you was unforgivable, you could have had me executed, like Xibalba proposed. Why did you ask Quetzalcóatl and Tezcatlipoca to spare me?"

The goddess was silent for a few seconds, processing those words, before she sighed. "Because even after what happened, I still saw you as a friend. You really hurt me, but I didn't want you dead because of dead. I wasn't very understanding with you either, perhaps it could have been avoided if I hadn't been so hard on you."

"No, La Muerte, it was all my responsibility. You are not to blame for _my_ actions." Víbora looked away, hiding the tear that ran down his cheek from view. "I do not expect you to forgive me, dear La Muerte, but I still ask you for it. I've been wanting to tell you I'm sorry for countless times, but I knew if I showed myself before you Xibalba would kill me like he swore he'd do at the trial, when I was banished from Aztlan, and your life." Finally, he gathered the courage to look at his beloved in the eyes. "You can doubt my actions. You can doubt every single word I've been saying up to now, but do not doubt that I'm sorry."

La Muerte didn't know what to say. She just kept staring at him with surprised eyes, completely speechless. Finally, she sighed. "Víbora… I don't doubt any of your words. I've known you for a long time, I know you would never lie to me. It's true, you're a liar and deceptive with others, but you've never been so with _me_."

Víbora nearly had a heart attack when his love **smiled** at him. It was a small, sad smile as she approached without fear and her tender, warm hand ran down his head.

"I forgave you long ago."

That was the last straw. Víbora's eyes swelled up with tears as he looked down, sobbing as he closed his eyes shut, allowing the tears to flow freely. La Muerte hesitated, not knowing if it was the right thing to do, but she pulled Víbora's head into a small hug, just like when they were children. They stayed like that for a long while, before Víbora felt it was wise to pull back. He did not forget his beloved was married, and he still had to talk with Xibalba himself.

"La Muerte?" he said gently. "Could you tell Xibalba I want a few words with him?"

La Muerte hesitated. "I don't think it's a good idea…"

"It won't be long. I just want to speak with him."

Although she still thought it was not wise, La Muerte nodded and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. A few minutes later, Xibalba walked into the room, again narrowing his eyes at Víbora, approaching warily. Xibalba stopped at a few feet away, and crossed his arms. "What do you want to tell me?" he hissed. "If you think you're going to deceive me like you deceived my daughter you're wrong."

"I know you have no reason to trust me, Xibalba. I don't judge you for that, I don't deserve it-"

"Quit with the 'I'm sorry' act and go straight to the point."

"Very well." Víbora shook his head, wincing as he did so. "But the point is that I am sorry for what I did, whether you want to believe me or not."

"Is that all?" Xibalba inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes… Good job."

The dark god grew confused. "What?"

"La Muerte is very happy with you, you've been a good husband… And a good father. Your kids are nice."

"Leave my children out of this."

"Even after all this time you don't like compliments, it seems."

"Not from _you_."

"Look, Xibalba, I don't want to keep fighting with you. The reason I wanted to talk with you is because I wanted to make peace-"

"Peace? You think I'm going to believe that crap coming from you?"

"No I don't, I'm just telling you. If you don't want to believe me, it's up to you."

Xibalba's deep frown seemed to be on the verge of weakening, before he stiffened his expression back to its mask of hardness and distrust. "Are you done?"

Víbora rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can go if that's what you want."

Xibalba turned his back on Víbora, but before he left the room, glanced one more time at him. "Still… Thanks… for helping my daughter." He practically forced those words to leave his lips, his frown softening momentarily. Still, whoever helped any of his children deserved his gratitude, even if that someone was his worst… no, his _former_ worst enemy.

* * *

The next day, both Víbora and Xibalba caught a cold from being under the cold rain for so much time, and so the two had to be taken to the infirmary, where Toci and Itzamna would give them herbs and remedies for their symptoms. Xibalba had never been so tense before, he didn't like to be in the same room with Víbora for too much time, a part of him was still wary that the basilisk would kill him in his sleep. Víbora just kept his distance, however.

When the silence became unbearable, however, they ended up talking. At first it was awkward and stiffened, like they didn't want to talk at all, but after a few days it warmed up bit by bit, and they chatted; Xibalba would talk about what had happened in the basilisk's absence, and Víbora would tell his companion of his travels.

What both had in common, however, was that they loved when La Muerte and the children came to visit them, often taking treats with them.

"Papi!" Marigold and Alastor cried out happily as they ran towards their father.

Despite his condition, Xibalba smiled at his children and embraced them when they came closer. "Hey, there…" he said with a hoarse voice.

"_Hola_, Balby…" La Muerte smiled at her husband, stroking his head gently. "How are you feeling?"

"More or less, my dear…" he replied, blowing his nose on a napkin. He subtly glanced at Víbora to see if he had the same spark of jealously that characterized him, but Víbora was curled up in bed, napping.

La Muerte placed a small basket on his laps. "We brought you some biscuits."

"And I helped!" Alastor grinned.

"Yeah, you helped to eat our chocolate chips."

Xibalba chuckled and took one of the biscuits; there was a party of sweetness in his mouth, as he chewed and swallowed. "These are the best biscuits I've ever tasted." He couldn't help but smile when Alastor grinned and hugged his mother. Xibalba glanced at Víbora's napping form, and thought for a moment, before sighing internally. Maybe it wouldn't hurt… He had not done anything, perhaps Marigold and La Muerte were right and he needed to make peace with the basilisk now that he could. "Víbora?"

Víbora shifted and lifted his head from his scaly back, glancing at Xibalba with drowsy eyes; he noticed La Muerte and the children were there, but he only gave them a small greeting glance before looking at the dark god. "What is it?" he inquired with a long yawn.

Xibalba hesitated, he felt ridiculous doing this, but luckily La Muerte seemed to know what he was thinking, and grabbed his hand, smiling. At long last, he managed to speak. "Would… Would you like a biscuit?"

Víbora stared at his former nemesis dumbfounded; had he heard what he thought he heard? After a while, he smiled a bit.

"Of course."


	27. Chapter 27

"Remember, no unsupervised flight."

"Okay, _hermanito_."

"Don't eat too much candy."

"Si, mamá."

"And don't let humans see you!"

"I got it, Xibalba!" Zipacna groaned in dismay. "No flight, no candy and no humans!"

"Good." Xibalba said, before narrowing his eyes at his brother. "If something happens to any of my children I'll have your head, got it?"

"Come on, _hermanito_! I can take care of two kids!"

"Like you said you could take care of that cat?"

"Hey, how was I supposed to know cats are not lava-proof?!"

"You don't need to go into details." La Muerte said softly, embracing her two children and kissing their cheeks. "Have fun, niños. Remember, stay close to your _tío_ and don't separate from him."

"Sí, mamá." Both Alastor and Marigold said simultaneously.

"Okay, _sobrinos_, let's go!" Zipacna said cheerfully. "You won't want to miss the opening ceremony!"

"Yay!"

Zipacna placed his hands on Marigold and Alastor's shoulders and spread out his wings, teleporting the three of them to a forest; nearby, there was a small village where people where already gathering for the beginning of the festival; it was a traditional village, and modernity had apparently had not yet arrived here. Horse-drawn carts of flowers were being led of town for decorating, great traditional wine-presses, where women stepped unto the grapes to spill out their juice, were already being filled with fresh purple grapes and people wore traditional clothing.

"Where are we, tío?" Alastor inquired.

"Welcome to Transylvania, sobrinos!" Zipacna laughed. "The homeland of vampires! Don't worry, they don't come out during the day. This village here is called Orlat, and we've arrived just in time for the Wine Making Festival!"

"Wine Making Festival?" Marigold inquired.

"It's when the Romanian people celebrate the successful harvest of grapes in their vineyards. They reunite to thank the Goddess of Abundance for their successful year."

"And what do they do?"

"Mostly they engage in traditional folk dancing, wine making and partying around in the streets." Zipacna grinned. "How about we change into proper forms before we go there?"

"But we have never shape shifted before."

"It's easy, really." The caiman headed god changed into a raven, then into a black dog, and back into his original form to see his nephew and niece's amazed expression. "All you have to do is to imagine what shape you want to take, and concentrate your magic on it. Give it a try, try changing shape into something simple, like a squirrel or a cat."

Marigold decided to give it a try, and concentrated her energy, imagining herself as a wolf. Soon she changed into the form of a white-furred wolf with black locks on her head, but her wings were still present. Alastor snickered.

"You look funny, Marigold!" he laughed.

Marigold just rolled her eyes.

"Don't worry, it's a matter of practice." Zipacna laughed, before glancing at Alastor. "Now give it a try."

Alastor imagined himself as a small black cat, but unlike his sister, when he transformed he looked completely normal. Both Marigold and Zipacna were dumbfounded at how he had mastered at the first try. Still, Marigold couldn't help but giggle.

"You're good at this!"

"okay, _sobrinos_, we should get going or we'll miss the opening ceremony." Zipacna said, placing his hands on their heads and turning them into human children as a guise, before turning into a full-grown man himself. "Besides, they have delicious snacks!"

As they were heading towards the main plaza, Alastor noticed a small yellow butterfly with intricate patterns on a tree, and it apparently was following them as they made their way to the village. Throughout the day, he was certain it was not a common butterfly, it seemed too smart.

"So are there really vampires in Transylvania?" Alastor inquired as he continued to eat his candied apple.

"More or less…" Zipacna replied hesitatingly. "With scales, claws and long tails."

"Huh?" Marigold didn't understand. "Aren't those dragons?"

"Let's say that vampires and dragons… well, all I can tell you is that there's a species that is between those races."

"You mean… Vampire Dragons?"

"Drampire is the appropriate term, _sobrina_."

"Did you see any?" Alastor inquired.

"Sort of." Zipacna didn't really want to talk about it. "Let's say, we have more family here in Europe. I won't say anything else, if I do your father will kill me."

Alastor wasn't paying attention at all. His attention was set on the butterfly that followed them around. There was a pattern on its wings that resembled blue eyes. Finally, he couldn't stand his curiosity any longer and waited until his sister and uncle were distracted to head back towards the forest, following the butterfly as it fluttered away, apparently leading him somewhere. Finally, when they were a good place away from town, though not too far, Alastor came into a beautiful clearing with a camellia tree on the middle, and saw the butterfly disappear into it branches and leaves. Curious, he walked closer, returning to his godly form as he did so, and tried to take a peek into the tree.

Leaning in for a better look, the godling caught a glimpse of a pair of blue eyes peering at him curiously from above, blinking. He thought he was seeing things, eyes on butterflies' wings didn't blink, and when he looked up again they were gone. Alastor grew confused as to what just happened, but before he could turn back and go back from where he came, a branch from the tree snapped; alarmed, he looked up at the tree just in time as a blur of fiery hair and creamy skin fell from the tree and on top of him. Alastor was frozen in complete shock and fright, looking up at the creature who had fallen on him.

He realized she was a godling like him, about his age, and a girl nonetheless. She was pretty. Her skin was cream-colored and her hair were long fiery locks of garnet, red, orange and yellow shades, like flames. Her eyes were of contrasting shades of blue, the sclera was a icy blue, the iris tropical blue, and the pupil a steel blue. There were green floral markings in her legs that spread out to her thighs, and another marking colored red running down her right shoulder. Her clothing consisted of a short hot pink dress with a purple strap crossing over her left shoulder, and matching pink sandals. There was a gold head-chain with a small red gem on her forehead.

The female, apparently feral godling was looking down at her 'prisoner' curiously. She had never seen one like him around. "**Cine eşti tu?**"

Alastor blinked in confusion. She had spoken in an unknown language, probably Romanian, but didn't understand what she wanted to tell him. "What? I don't speak Romanian. Can't you speak English?"

But it was clear she had no idea what he had said either. Great, how was he supposed to communicate with her?

"**Care e numele tău?**" the godling asked once again.

Alastor tried to think on what to say, if she didn't understand him and he didn't know what she had said. Maybe she had asked his name, it was the first thing someone wanted to know after meeting a new person. "I'm Alastor."

She stared at him for a few seconds, before reaching out her hand to touch his chest. "**Alastor**." She whispered, understanding, then placed her hand on her chest. "**Feronia**.

He guessed that was her name. "Feronia?" he inquired.

She nodded enthusiastically.

"Could you get off me?"

Feronia didn't understand his words, but she had the feeling he wanted her to get off, so she stood up and got off him, holding out a hand for him to help him get back on his feet. Alastor blushed, but nevertheless he accepted her hand and lifted himself back to his feet.

"**Vrei să te joci cu mine?**" Feronia inquired happily.

Again, he had no idea of what she said. "I don't get it." He yelped in surprise when she grabbed his hand and led him further into the forest Still, he had the feeling she had no bad intentions, she didn't look like a bad person at all. They came to a small open field that overlooked the mountains, and there was a small herd of red deer grazing, with some fawns playing around their mothers. Alastor had to admit they were cute.

"**Caprioara rosie**!" Feronia chirped happily, pointing at the deer.

"Yeah, they're red deer." Alastor replied, guessing what she wanted to say.

To his surprise, Feronia approached the herd, and they perked up their ears and lifted their heads to see her, but then returned to their feeding time as if nothing was wrong, it was as if they already knew her. Heck, even the stag seemed to know her as it approached calmly and allowed her to touch its nose. Feronia turned to look at Alastor with a bright expression and motioned him to come closer. "**Vino aici!**"

Alastor did as told, and stiffened a bit when the stag snorted and stomped its hoof as a warning gesture, but calmed down a bit when Feronia whispered something into the stag's ear, and it seemingly calmed down. Much to Alastor's surprise, the stag bent down and allowed Feronia to climb unto its back, then she motioned him to do the same. "**Haide! Să mergem**!"

Although hesitating at first, the dark godling warily approached the stag and climbed unto its back behind Feronia; he clung to her in fright when the stag stood up and trotted towards the forest, followed by the rest of the herd, before it started to gallop. Feronia giggled wildly all the while, while he was trembling in fear of falling off, not even his father's horse shook as much! Still, he admitted he was having fun.

He was glad to have met a godling of his own age. He loved his family and all that, but they were all older than him and they couldn't do _everything_ he liked to do. His parents would often spend time with him when they could, but they had realms to look after as well, and work to do. His sister would play with him every now and then, but she was a young lady now (as much as he disliked the idea) and had appearances to keep sometimes. And well, his uncle could only visit every now and then. In other words, there were times where he had no one to play with.

The rest of the day was spent in the flower fields, making flower necklaces and crowns for each other, while he learned a few words from Feronia in Romanian language. But after a long while, Alastor heard a voice in the wind.

"ALASTOR!"

"Uh-oh! It's my uncle!" Alastor yelped, standing up, but a hand stopped him. He looked back and saw Feronia had an expression of surprise, confusion and a bit of sadness.

"**Unde te duci?**"

"I gotta go!" Alastor said, having the feeling she wanted to know if he was leaving. "My uncle and my sister must be worried for me!"

She was sad over that her friend was leaving, but she understood what he meant to say. She stood up and grabbed her friend's hand, leaving him through the forest and back towards the village. When they were at the border, in the same tree where they had met, she let go of him.

"**Vă voi vedea din nou?**"

For some reason, Alastor could tell she wanted to know if she'd see him again. He smiled, holding her hand and squeezing it assuring. "Don't worry, I will try to visit you." He wanted to let her know he wouldn't forget about her, so he took a look around and looked for something he could use… he saw the camellia tree. Smiling, Alastor headed towards the tree and picked a small pink flower, before heading back to his friend and handing it to her. Feronia stared at the flower with surprised eyes, then up at him.

"_Nos vemos luego_."

As he turned into a cloud of pepper and zipped back towards the village, Feronia looked down at the flower in her hands, before smiling and taking it close to her chest, glancing at the direction in which the godling had left.

"Alastor…"

* * *

"ALASTOR! WHERE ARE YOU?!" Zipacna frenzied around in his raven form, followed by Marigold (in nightingale form) as the two flew around the village searching for a certain godling. "Xibalba is going to kill me!"

"When did he get lost?! I don't recall seeing him leave!" Marigold added.

"I can't believe I can't even watch over a child! What if something happened to him?! It'll be my neck!"

They flew around the town once more, and scanned it thoroughly. Zipacna was already thinking on what he'd say to La Muerte and Xibalba when they returned (and writing his epitaph for when his brother killed him for losing his son), when he heard his nephew call out.

"_Tío_! Mari!" Alastor was soon flying towards them in the shape of a jackdaw.

"Alastor, _donde diablos te metiste_?!" Zipacna cawed, flying down towards him. "You had us worried!"

"Sorry, I was going after a butterfly." Alastor replied.

"Al, you could have been eaten by a Drampire!" Marigold retorted with a worried expression.

"Don't worry, Drampires are overconfident and prideful, but they're not reckless enough to try and attack a God." Zipacna said. "Anyway, we should get back. It's late, your parents will be worried about you."

Before they disappeared, Alastor looked back at the forest one final time. But as they disappeared, a black raven and a bat landed on top of one of the rooves, their eyes set on the spot the gods had been flying around.

"So those kids were one our nephew's children." The raven said casually.

"Too bad Akri never bothered to introduce them to us." The bat replied. "It would have been nice to meet his family. It's not everyday that you get related to the Aztec pantheon, after all."

"Who knows? Zipacna does know about Drampires, though I bet he _doesn't_ know he and his brother are related to us."

"Well, brother, the night is young, and we have not fed for an entire month." The bat snickered. "Want to dig your fangs into a virgin's neck?"

"And get chased around by an angry mob again? I'd rather go and hunt something the old way."

"Sounds funnier. Besides, I wouldn't like to hear another of Dad's sermons."

The two creatures took flight and disappeared into the blackness of the night.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28- Like Father, Like Son.

* * *

**Okay, everyone! Here we have some father-son bonding! Enjoy!**

Xibalba and La Muerte grew worried.

It had been happening for five nights in a row, Alastor would wake up screaming and crying, sometimes to the point his magic would burst out of nowhere and cause a bit of damage in his room, nothing too serious. Still, they were concerned about their son's wellbeing. La Muerte would often wake up in the middle of the night when Alastor woke up screaming, and immediately go to her son's room, scoop him in her arms and comfort him, cooing and lulling him back to sleep, all the while assuring everything would be alright. Alastor would not say what he had dreamt, however.

Tonight, however, La Muerte had gone out to tend some business with a few families in the outskirts of the Land of the Remembered, and Xibalba had to put their children to bed that night. However, instead of returning to his chambers, he stayed in Alastor's room to make sure he would be okay. He watched him sleep from his small couch, waiting.

He had fallen asleep when it started; Alastor started to scream out of sudden, and wiggle violently in bed, bringing his father out of his pleasant dreams. Xibalba immediately flew over to his son's bed and held him down by the shoulders, nearly avoiding being unknowingly smacked in the face.

"Alastor!" Xibalba cried out, trying to wake the godling up. "It's me!"

"Let go of me!" Alastor cried out in his sleep, screaming.

"Son, wake up!"

Finally, Alastor's eyes snapped open, tears streaming down his cheeks and cold sweat trickling down his face; Xibalba immediately grabbed him by the shoulders. "Alastor are you okay?!" Alastor jumped at his father's voice and moved away from him with eyes full of true terror. Xibalba felt hurt by it. "What's wrong?"

The godling couldn't help it; he immediately embraced his father and buried his face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Xibalba immediately embraced the godling and wrapped his wings around him to keep him warm. "Shh. It's okay, son. I'm here."

Alastor didn't reply, he simply continued to sob in his father's embrace.

"You had a bad dream again?"

He nodded.

"Wanna talk about it?" Alastor stiffened in his father's arms, and seemed to sob louder. Xibalba offered him a comforting smile. "You know you can tell anything to your dear ol' dad, _mijo_."

Alastor thought for a moment; a few minutes later, he continued to sob, but he managed to speak. "I… M-Mamá was going t-to have another baby… I was happy, b-but…"

"Did something happen?"

"Well… We were in the garden, mamá was knitting something and I wanted to show her a magic trick… b-but it went out of c-control and… I struck her."

Xibalba listened intently to his son.

"She was screaming, she started to bleed, you and Marigold came… You took mamá inside a room with other people, I stayed outside with Marigold… After a while we heard you screaming… T-Then… I-I… It was horrible…! Mamá was m-motionless on b-bed, there was lots of b-blood and one of the servants had a bloody b-bundle of blankets… You were crying…" When he tried to continue, he burst unto tears once again. "And t-then… you became mad at me and said it was my fault… M-Marigold yelled at me t-too…! It was horrible…! I didn't want to-!" he was interrupted when his father placed a finger on his lips, motioning him to stop. He had heard enough.

"You don't have to be afraid of it ever happening, _mijo_." Xibalba whispered gently. "I know you'd never hurt your mother, even by accident. And even if something were to happen, I'd never put the blame on you; you're my son, and I love you."

That offered little comfort to the godling, however. "But you love mamá too…"

"That's true. I love your mother with all my heart and every fiber of my being; I'd give my life for her. And it's because of that love I feel that I know she would never forgive me if I ever did something like that to you. You and Marigold mean everything for her, she'd never blame you for that either. But like I said, you'd never do something like that, Al. So don't worry about it." The dark god smiled at his child and wiped his tears away with his thumb. "I promise you, son."

Finally, Alastor managed to smile a bit at his father, and lay his head against his breast, soother by his heartbeat. As Xibalba continued to coo and shush at his child to calm him down, he could sense something inside the room. A mild, but dark aura, and it was coming from the bed's mattress, however, he did not want his son to know about it. Subtly, he snapped his fingers and made a parchment of paper and a quill appear, waving his fingers s that the quill would write what he wanted on the parchment before once again snapping his fingers, making the note disappear in a small burst of green fire. Now he had to think of something to take Alastor out of the room.

"Would you like to eat something?"

"It's midnight, papá… Everyone's asleep, I don't want to wake them up so late…"

"I never said we were waking anyone up. I can make something for you."

"You cook?"

Xibalba chuckled. "You and your mother make it sound like it was impossible."

"Sorry."

Chuckling once again, Xibalba stood up from his son's bed, holding him close like when he was a baby. He made his way down to the kitchen and placed Alastor on a chair, before preparing some _burritos_, _churros_ and hot cocoa. Father and son just stayed there, eating with only one of the lamps lit to illuminate the kitchen. It was a while before Alastor spoke. "Hey, papá… Can I ask you something?"

"What is it, son?"

"How did you get along with your dad?"

Xibalba's hand stopped in the middle of grabbing a churro; that topic was very sensitive to him, very few knew what he suffered under Akrinok's cruelty, and he didn't like to talk about it. But maybe it wouldn't do bad to discuss subtly with someone. "We… Well, I didn't get along with him at all."

"Why not?"

"He was stern, and very mean." Xibalba tried to find appropriate words. "He was not very loving or understanding either, he punished me and your uncle frequently." It was taking him a lot of effort to speak calmly, whenever he spoke about his father he grew angry and hurt.

"And your mom?"

"Ah, she was so different from him. She was loving and kind, she was the best mother ever. I adored her. Don't yell your mother this, but I've never loved anyone like I loved my mother, not even La Muerte."

"And what happened to her?"

"She died when I was five."

"And when did you meet mamá?"

Xibalba smiled fondly. "We met in San Ángel. I was ten and she was eight. But at that time there was no San Angel."

Alastor nearly choked on his _burrito_. "There wasn't?"

The older god chuckled. "At that time the Spanish hadn't even come to the New World. It was long before, when the Mayan were in control of these lands. It was a Mayan village, and all around the lake was a jungle. Anyway, I was playing in the jungle when I first saw her." Xibalba was blushing all the way. "I swear, when I first saw her my heart nearly burst out of my chest. I already loved her, though at that age I didn't even know what the word meant. We were almost always together, when we grew up I proposed to her, and well, you know the rest of the story."

"You really love mamá, don't you?"

"She is the light of my life, along with you and Marigold. She has always been there for me in the good and bad, especially when we were in our teens and we had to turn in new responsibilities."

"Hey, papá… How did you feel when you became King?"

"Heck, I was a handful of nerves! I was afraid I wouldn't do good as a ruler, and of all the paperwork." Xibalba chuckled. "Luckily, your mother was there to cheer me up…"

_Nervous would have been an understatement. _

_Heck, he was freaking out! Xibalba didn't stop pacing in front of the great obsidian doors that led into the throne room of his father's… no, __**his**__ castle. All the gods and minor spirits from Aztlan were gathered inside, getting ready for the coronation. He was 118 years old, he was old enough to take the throne and take care of the realm; all those years of physical and psychological torture, or his father's version of preparation, would bear fruit now. When Akrinok died three years ago, the care of the Land of the Forgotten was taken by Quetzalcóatl and Tezcatlipoca temporally until Xibalba came of age._

_For just this occasion, he had to be dressed properly; he never liked formal clothing, but alas, it was tradition. He wore a formal black suit with silver trimmings of snakes and skulls, he was allowed to wear his dark tarry cloak, but there was another, much longer and more intricate cloak hanging from his shoulders and dragging unto the floor, concealing his combed wings (though no matter what he did, his wings would always look ragged and burnt). As always, however, he never removed the gloves, not even in this occasion. _

_"__Are you okay, Balby?"_

_Thank heaven, the voice he wanted to hear the most right now. "What do you think? I'm about to be crowned, and I'm already worrying about everything."_

_La Muerte smiled at her childhood friend, approaching him from behind. "Don't worry, you'll be a great king. Much more better than your father, if you ask me." _

_Xibalba couldn't help but smile a bit at her, but it wavered a few seconds later. "Thanks, but… I don't know… The idea of sitting in the throne he sat at all these years…"_

_"__You are not like him, Xibalba. You're not a monster." _

_He glanced at La Muerte with bright eyes. "You think so?"_

_The goddess made of sugar giggled, and twirled the dark god's growing white moustache, planting a cheek on his cheek. "I know so." She caught the wave of uncertainty in his face. "What else is bothering you?"_

_"__Well…" Xibalba sighed. "You think… Zipacna, he… Do you think he will come?"_

_"__I'm sure he will. Even if he can't make it, I know he would wish you the best of luck."_

_Xibalba felt a little bitter that his brother hadn't shown up in all these years, but pushed these thoughts aside when La Muerte planted a small kiss on his lips, and he gladly returned it, before she disappeared in a gentle swirl of marigold petals. _

_Ponzoña slithered up his master's cloak, up to the shoulder, and hissed into his ear. _

_"__Easy for you to say, you're not the one who's going to have to stand in there with everyone looking at you!" Xibalba muttered to his snake, still nervous, specially when the Candlemaker peeked his head from the door. _

_"__Huh, Xibalba, we're ready for you!" the wax man chirped excitedly. "Oh, it's going to be amazing!" Then he went back inside. _

_"__**G-Gracias**__…" Xibalba stuttered. He took a deep breath, and let it out a few moments later, glancing at Ponzoña's two heads as the snake nuzzled against his cheek reassuringly. "I guess I won't die in there. Ready, Ponzy?"_

_Turning his snake into a staff once more, Xibalba stiffened when the doors slowly started to open, but nevertheless he walked inside, trying to appear as regal as possible. His heart was close to bursting out of his chest as he made his way down the long black carpet, feeling all the eyes set on him. Quetzalcóatl and Tezcatlipoca were on one side of the throne, awaiting for the young prince to come closer. La Muerte waved at him from her seat with a smile, and Emilio, Regina and everyone else were present, Roberto even waved a small green flag excitedly. Xibalba would have laughed, but thought it was not the moment. _

_Once he was in front of the throne, Quetzalcóatl was the one who spoke first. "Brothers and Sisters, today we are gathered here, to celebrate the ascendance to the throne of Xibalba, son of Akrinok and Selena."_

_Xibalba felt a little sad when the feathered serpent mentioned his mother, but he masked it. _

_"__Xibalba, you will be given both a blessing and a burden. The fate of this realm shall be placed on your hands, and yours alone. It will be your responsibility to ensure the balance of the realm is kept." _

_Next, it was Tezcatlipoca who spoke, approaching the young god with a silver crown adorned with swirly horns and small skulls. "May your reign be long and prosperous, may you rule wisely for the eons to come." He lifted the crown and left it hovering over Xibalba's head; the dark god grew tensed, he knew what it meant. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head lightly, and tensed up when he felt the weight of the crown on his head. Out of sudden, all his doubts and insecurity vanished and was replaced with pride and confidence. When he turned around to face the crowd, he no longer was the shy, insecure young prince from a few hours ago, but a regal, strong king. The crowd of gods and goddesses stood from their seats as a sign of respect and awe. _

_"__We bow to thee, Lord Xibalba, King of the Land of the Forgotten." _

_The crowd, and the servants, offered Xibalba a reverence, La Muerte included; Quetzalcóatl and Tezcatlipoca bowed lightly in a show of respect. _

_He smiled with pride. A new part of his life had just begun. And his first order as King regnant… _

_"__Well, everyone, as a show of my gratitude for accompanying me on this important day, I'd like to invite you to the Dining Hall for a small party."_

"I admit, it would have been better if the party had been here, but La Muerte hadn't been crowned Queen just yet, and I doubted Sol would be willing to host such a party. What do you think?"

No reply.

"Alastor?" Xibalba glanced at his son, and found he had long fallen asleep, his cup and plates empty.

Chuckling, Xibalba gently picked him up and carried him upstairs, all the way to his and La Muerte's chambers. Once there, he closed the door behind him and headed towards bed to lay Alastor down, pulling up the sheets to warm keep him warm; as he was about to leave his son to rest, Xibalba felt a much smaller hand grab on his, and noticed Alastor's eyelids had slid open a bit. The godling smiled up at his father.

"_Te quiero_, papá.

Xibalba smiled and bent down to kiss his son's forehead. "_Yo tambien te quiero, hijo_."

Alastor went back to sleep, with no nightmares this time.


	29. Halloween Special

Halloween Special!

If there was something Xibalba hated, it was Halloween.

He considered it to be a 'ridiculous mockery of Samhain' and a complete waste of time. He didn't find it any funny to dress oneself as a 'monster' and go around from house to house asking for candy or vandalize it. It was so unlike Day of the Dead, when people pay their respects to their ancestors and put offerings in their graves, _that_ is an authentic celebration. He'd rather die than let his children take part in such a stupid American holiday.

Unfortunately, La Muerte was not as close-minded as him. She saw no harm in letting her subjects and family celebrate modern holidays such as Christmas, Valentine's day, etc. He usually had no problem against most holidays, but Halloween simply was the exception. He got irritated when he arrived home and found the castle decorated with pumpkins, skulls, bats and many other Halloween things. Heck, even the stupid disguises annoyed him. Soon the servants and everyone in the Land of the Remembered saw the holiday put him on a sour mood, and tended to avoid disturbing him.

Naturally, this year he was beyond bewildered when he saw Marigold and Alastor dressed up as a witch and a devil respectively.

"What the heck?! _Niños_!" he snapped as soon as he saw them.

"Look papá! I'm a devil!" Alastor chirped happily, waving his _trinche_ happily.

"I can see that! But I want to know why!"

"It's Halloween, papá. We're supposed to disguise and ask for candy." Marigold replied.

Xibalba couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Not on my family! Get out of those ridiculous outfits!"

"But papá-"

"Xibalba!" La Muerte noticed what was going on, and approached her husband with a deep frown. "They asked me if they could go trick-or-treating this year and I told them they could."

"Don't tell me you like this stupid holiday!"

"There's nothing bad with it, Xibalba. It's just a time of the year for children to have fun disguising and collecting candy."

"And vandalizing houses."

"That's only for people who don't give us candy, papá." Marigold rolled her eyes.

La Muerte crossed her arms at her husband. "I don't understand why you can't let our children test out holidays from other countries."

"Muertita, you know I don't have anything against most other holidays, but Halloween?! Come on! What happened with the old traditions?"

"Just because the children want to try out new things doesn't mean they will forget about the old traditions."

"Papá, we were going to ask you to come along." Alastor said, looking up at his father innocently.

"Absolutely not."

"Please, papi!" Marigold tried to give him the puppy look.

"I'm not going to lower myself to that!"

"Xibalba!" La Muerte narrowed her eyes at her husband. "If you don't accompany the children tonight you're sleeping on the couch!"

"Why can't Zipacna go?! He's much more prone to getting messed up in these things!"

"He's too busy right now, you know he has to keep the devils under control during this time of year!"

"But-!" when Xibalba was about to keep arguing, he shivered when La Muerte gave him a much more threatening glare, and instantly knew he had lost this battle. Finally, he relented, sighing. "Fine, I'll do it but I don't have to like it."

"Yay!" Marigold and Alastor hugged their father's legs, while La Muerte calmed down and grinned, running a hand down his beard. As always, Xibalba melted with her touch and shivered in delight.

"Aww, _eres un amor_, Balby." She whispered into his ear.

Damn it, he felt like a dog on a leash with this woman sometimes, and yet he loved it.

* * *

He was starting to regret it.

The dark god had gone to Mexico City for the trick and treating with his children, as always taking human forms. Even Medianoche had tagged along, also guised as a thoroughbred normal Friesian stallion, painted as if he were a skeletal horse, while Xibalba was in his normal 'Black Rider' glamour. But what bothered him the most as the fact that some people had already thought he was disguised.

Sadly, he was seeing that Halloween was gaining terrain, most colonies were decorated with lamps, there were pumpkins with carved grimaces on the gardens and windows, white blanket ghosts, bats, spider webs and many other things. Similarly, children were running around the place with one parent or both, all disguised as ghouls or monsters or other silly costumes he disliked very much. He led his children through the streets, leading his horse by the reins as well, and watching as they asked for candy in the doorsteps (he had seen the homes of those foolish enough not to give candy tonight, it was not a pretty sight). He couldn't understand why his children wanted to celebrate this stupid holiday so much.

Xibalba waited on the street with Medianoche while Marigold and Alastor knocked on yet another door, and received a generous amount of candy from a friendly old lady. When they returned, Xibalba decided it was enough. "Okay, _niños_. It's time to go home."

"Aww, but papá! We're having fun!" Alastor whined.

"And we are still collecting candy!"

"For goodness sake, you two!" Xibalba pointed at his horse's saddlebag, which was overfilled with candies, sweets and other treats they had gathered. "Aren't those enough?"

"_Por favor_, papi…" Marigold tried to muster her best puppy look at the moment in her witch disguise.

"It's very late and your mother will be worried."

"Please! Just one more home!" Alastor continued to tug on his father's trench coat. "Pleaaasee!"

Xibalba sighed and crossed his arms. "Fine. But only one house." As he watched his children go to yet another house to ask for candy, Xibalba leaned against Medianoche, running a hand through his white hair. Medianoche turned his neck to look back at his master, snorting in discomfort. "Don't worry, _chico_. Just one more and we'll go home."

"Going home so soon?"

Xibalba was startled when he heard a mysterious voice a few steps away and took his hand to the hilt of his sword, ready to unsheathe it if necessary, only to find himself facing an elderly man. Oddly, this person had no costume (he was glad of it, though), but he almost looked like he wore one. He wore a green tunic with adorned with trimmings of leaves and natural designs, as well as pale skin and golden eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dark. His hair was long and white, as well as his beard.

"Don't scare me like that, old man." Xibalba growled, releasing his sword, while Medianoche snorted in annoyance.

"My apologies, my friend. I was just passing by and overheard your small discrepancy with your children. They're yours, right?"

"They are, and it's not your business."

"Oh, don't worry. I don't mean to intrude, but I could tell you don't like this holiday very much, do you?"

"You guessed right. It's a complete waste of time."

"I don't see why, everyone around here seems to be having much fun, even your own children."

Xibalba couldn't shake the eerie feeling off, there was something off about this old man. He could sense his aura, it was not normal for a human's… "Why are you so interested in what I think about this ridiculous celebration?"

"Well, I don't expect an Ancient God to like the modern holidays."

Xibalba froze and nearly tripped on his cane. "I-I don't know what you're t-talking about…"

"You're not the only divine being here, my friend. I know you are Lord Xibalba, King of the Land of the Forgotten. Lady Epona has spoken fondly about you."

At the mention of his old friend, Xibalba relaxed. "Are you a god as well? I could tell you are not human."

"I'm not precisely a God, but yes, I'm no mortal either." The old man said, stroking his long beard.

"What are you then, old man?"

"Let's say I'm a spirit who likes to hang out on this day of the year."

A spirit… "You're an Aos Sí."

"Effectively, my friend!" the old spirit laughed heartily. "I never thought I'd meet the great Lord Xibalba, the Last of the Ancient Lords of the Underworld! It's such an honor!"

"Thanks, I suppose." Xibalba replied, and couldn't help but smile a bit. "But how come you're wandering around here?"

"Like I told you, we like to hang around the Land of the Living during this time of the tear."

"'We?' you mean there are more?"

"On various other parts of the world, but yes."

"You mean you…?" Xibalba glanced around at the disguised people. "Like this?"

"Why not? It's entertaining."

"I imagined your kind wouldn't like it."

"It's entertaining and a way to remember the old traditions in a fun way, we see nothing bad in that."

Xibalba didn't know what to say. The spirit said he didn't mind this celebration, not even when it was an obvious mockery of the previous way to honor the Aos Sí. The spirit looked at the sky.

"Well, My Lord, I'd like to keep chatting with you, but I should really be going. The bonfire will be starting soon and I wouldn't like to miss it. I hope I will see you around next year!"

Before Xibalba could say anything else, the spirit was already gone in the blink of an eye; he wanted to go after him, but Medianoche snorted and nuzzled at his cheek. Xibalba chuckled and gently pushed his horse's head away, though soon he saw the reason the horse had called his attention. Marigold and Alastor were finally coming back with bags full of candy, but they looked exhausted. Indeed, it was already past their bedtime.

"Alright, _niños_, it's time to go." He said, leading lifting them off the ground and mounting them on Medianoche. "It's past your bedtime, and your mother will be worried."

"But I'm not tireeed…" Alastor yawned, rubbing his eyes, making his father chuckle.

"Even if you're not, we should head back. Don't worry, I won't eat your candy."

"Papá…" Marigold yawned as well.

Xibalba led his horse somewhere where there was no people, before teleporting himself and his children back to the Land of the Remembered. Carefully, he lifted them off the saddle, ordering the servants to take the candy to the kitchen when they took Medianoche to his stall. La Muerte was waiting for them in the dining room, and saw her husband carrying their children inside. She teleported next to them in a blur of marigold petals to take Alastor in her arms. "So how did it go, Balby?"

"Well, we collected a lot of candy, and they had fun. That's all that matters, right?"

"How about you?"

"Well…" Xibalba thought for a moment. "Let's say I made a friend."

Perhaps Halloween was not so bad after all.


	30. Chapter 30

An Old Friend

* * *

**Hi, everyone! I'm glad to say that after about two months hiatus, WCHB it's back! Only for a while, though, I'm already planning out the last chapters.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Xibalba's bond with his horse Medianoche was very famous in the thirteen realms, even among the Remembered. Anyone could see it, those two were like flesh and bone, they understood each other very well even without words, when they rode Xibalba had firm and confident hold on the reins, but sometimes he trusted his horse's judgment and let him go on his own accord. There was no one in the pantheon who could beat them, they were the greatest pair, no one could beat them in a race. Even La Muerte was a bit jealous of their relationship, and _that_ was something.

Naturally, whenever something happened to his horse, Xibalba's wrath was boundless.

The stable hand trembled under the dark god's fuming glare, trying his best not to faint. Xibalba clenched his fists, glaring at this incompetent fool like he was nothing but a puny insect.

"What do you mean that my horse is sick?" he hissed, his teeth sharpening and his feathers bristling.

"He d-doesn't e-eat, and he has f-fever. He has b-been lying on the g-ground for a while…"

"What did you do to him, you fool?!" Xibalba nearly roared, grabbing the stable hand by the shirt and lifting him off the ground so he could glare at him directly. "I gave you specific instructions on how to care of him!"

"Xibalba!" La Muerte intervened before her husband would turn the poor spirit into dust. "Stop!"

Reluctantly, Xibalba dropped the stable hand to the ground, and the poor man scrambled over to La Muerte, hiding behind her.

"I know you're worried about Medianoche, but you shouldn't put all the blame on Sancho just like that." She chided the dark god gently.

"Who am I supposed to blame them?" Xibalba growled, glaring at Pancho mercilessly. "He's in charge of the stables and he's supposed to supervise the care of the horses!"

"I know, but it doesn't mean you should be so hard on him. They all do the best they can."

Xibalba groaned. "Forget it. I'm going to see how my horse is, and if he's not near-dead I _may_ consider sparing Pancho from a good punishment!" With this, he left the throne room and headed for the stables.

The stables of the Land of the Remembered were big, and all the stalls were filled with horses of all ages, all skeletal and looking almost the same, the only eexceptions being King Xibalba and Queen La Muerte's horses. The stables were always open for whoever needed a horse. Today, however, the stables were closed. Xibalba immediately headed towards Medianoche's stall, and opened the door. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw the state his horse was in. Medianoche was laid down on the ground, his silky mane and tail strewn out in different directions, there was a look of agony in his face, and sweat trickling down his dark coat.

"Medianoche…" Xibalba stepped inside and sat down next to his horse, stroking his head gently. He was boiling hot. "What did they do to you…?" there was genuine worry in his voice.

Medianoche perked up an ear and looked at his owner tiredly, letting out a snort.

"Shhh, it's okay, my boy, I'm here." Xibalba cooed, running his hand down the stallion's neck. "Don't worry, everything will be okay."

Medianoche managed to lift his head and point at his stomach with his snout, before laying his head down once again.

"It hurts? It'll be okay, I'll stay here with you until you get better, okay?"

True to his word, Xibalba stayed with his horse all day, all the while stroking his neck and speaking soothing words to him. He had a bucket of cool water and towels brought, and spent the evening dabbing his horse's head gently to refresh him, attempting to feed him a bit of oats, but to no avail.

Days passed, and he didn't show any signs of recovery.

He was not the only one worried. Blanca was worried for her mate's fate, and she was peeking her head into his stall, snorting and whining gently to try and comfort him. La Muerte often passed by to visit and she often took Xibalba something to eat, since he refused to leave his steed's side stubbornly. Heck, sometimes he spent the nights there! Marigold would also pass by and give Medianoche a few pats in the neck. Alastor, though, did not understand why his father was so attached to the horse. It was not that he disliked Medianoche or any of that, but he didn't know of his father's history with him. Maybe he should ask him.

As the eight year old godling walked into the stables and headed over to Medianoche's stall, he heard his father's voice on the inside.

"Come on, _chico_. You have to eat."

Curious, Alastor took a peek inside the stall, and found his father inside, sitting next to his horse. Medianoche's head was on top of his lap, he still looked very ill, sweating heavily and letting out weak snorts and whines. Xibalba was trying to feed him a small handful of oats, but the horse just kept moving his head away.

"Papá?"

Xibalba lifted his head when he heard his son's voice. "What is it, _mijo_?" he inquired.

"I came to see if you were here."

"I was just… Well, I can't get Medianoche to eat."

Alastor tentatively stepped into the stall and sat down Indian style next to his father. He saw the stallion's abdomen rising and falling from breathing; his entire coat was dampened in sweat, and he tried to move as less as possible. Sighing, Xibalba poured the oats back into their bucket and he stroked the horse's neck once more.

"How come you're so attached to him?" Alastor inquired out of curiosity.

"Well, we've been together for a while now. I've had him ever since we were young."

"Mamá says you were children, right?"

He couldn't help but chuckle in remembrance. "I can say he found me when I was ten. I was hidden from your grandfather in a cave when he appeared; I was surprised, there weren't usually animals down in the Land of the Forgotten. We became friends, and I hid him from Akrinok until the day he died."

"Did mamá know about him?"

"How wouldn't she? She was my best friend, I never kept secrets from her."

* * *

_"__Where are we going, Balby?" _

_Xibalba led his friend through the forests of Aztlan, towards a particular clearing. He was acting all mysterious, but he hadn't told her why? He just said there was something important he wanted to show her. When they arrived at the clearing, a few kilometers away from Aztlan, Xibalba let go of her hand. She could finally ask him what he was up to. "What is this thing you wanted to show me?" _

_"__It's a new friend… sort of…" _

_"__Why didn't you bring him to Aztlan?" _

_"__Well, he's not precisely social… Well, I'll show you." Xibalba took two fingers to his mouth and gave a long whistle. _

_La Muerte nearly jumped when she heard a small neigh coming from the forest, and a foal of about one year old trotted out of the bushes. It had a black coat, and green swirls on its head and legs, as well as red eyes. The foal walked closer to Xibalba, stretching out its neck to nuzzle his cheek; Xibalba giggled at the ticklish sensation, gently pulling the foal's nose away. _

_"__Muertita, this is Medianoche." He said, patting the foal's neck. _

_"__Aww, he's cute!" La Muerte giggled, but as she reached to touch the foal it snorted and walked behind the dark godling. _

_"__Sorry, he's a bit shy…" Xibalba blushed, stepping aside and glancing at Medianoche. "Don't worry, buddy. She's the sweetest girl you'll ever meet… just don't make her angry." _

_La Muerte ignored the last comment, and tried once again, slowly this time. Medianoche snorted, shaking his head when she nearly touched his nose. After a while, however, Medianoche finally allowed her to pet his head. _

_"__Hey, Xibalba, where did you find him?" La Muerte inquired, rubbing Medianoche's head gently. _

_"__He sort of found __**me**__. I was hiding from Father in a cave, and Medianoche just came in. Ever since I've been taking care of him." _

_"__Does Zipacna know about this?" _

_"__He helped me bring Medianoche here. It's a safer place than the Land of the Forgotten."_

_"__You sure your father doesn't know about this?" _

_"__He doesn't. If he had he would have already tortured me to reveal his location." _

_La Muerte shifted uncomfortably. She was of the few who knew of what Xibalba went through whenever his father was around. "You haven't tried to ride him, have you?"_

_Xibalba blushed, while Medianoche gave a funny, questioning neigh. "N-No, I… Well, I tried, but he doesn't like the idea just yet…" _

_"__He's a foal, it's normal. Horses aren't ridden until they're at least three years old, I think."_

_"__Hey, I taught him a trick. Wanna see?" _

_"__What kind of trick can you teach a horse?" _

_Smiling, Xibalba turned to Medianoche. "Sit down, boy!" _

_To La Muerte's delight the foal sat down, neighing lightly and shaking his head. Xibalba took something out of his pocket-a sugar cube-and gave it to Medianoche as a prize; Medianoche immediately devoured the treat. _

_"__That was amazing!" _

_"__I'm still trying to teach him other things, but he's stubborn like a mule." Xibalba yelped when Medianoche stood up and swatted his tail at his head. La Muerte giggled in delight, but the dark godling didn't find it any funny, and glared at Medianoche. _

_"__You can forget about your sugar cubes!"_

* * *

Alastor couldn't help but giggle a bit at the anecdote. "Sounds funny."

Xibalba chuckled, stroking his horse's neck gently. "Remember, _chico_?"

Medianoche gave a weak neigh, his head still on his master's lap.

"So what happened after that?"

"I hid Medianoche for a few more years until my father died. Then I could take him to the castle with no problem."

"How did you feel the first time you rode him?"

"Hehe, I admit, it was one both the most exciting but embarrassing moment in my life… I was one hundred sixteen at the time, Father died a year ago and I was more than enjoying myself…"

* * *

_Laughter and neighs on by the wind, hoofbeats clip-clopping on the grass as Medianoche chased after his owner, who had a rather unfair advantage with his wings as he flew around, laughing until he finally landed on the branch of a nearby tree. Xibalba looked down at Medianoche, who was neighing and jumping around beneath the branch, directing his complaints at him. _

_"__What, can't you get up here?" Xibalba laughed, his legs dangling from the branch. "Don't worry, boy. I'll get down-" suddenly, the branch underneath broke, and the dark godling yelled in surprised as he fell; it was so sudden he did not have time to stop his fall with his wings. Medianoche quickly reacted and cantered forward, catching him on his back. _

_"__Owowow…" Xibalba up on the horse's back, rubbing his chest painfully, until he took notice of something. Medianoche bent his neck to look at him with raised ears. Xibalba immediately stiffened, tightening his legs around the colt's torso. "Middy, don't move…" _

_Medianoche snorted, and started to walk, making the godling freeze. "Medianoche!"_

_Snorting in delight, Medianoche soon quickened into a canter; Xibalba grew terrified as he clung to the horse's neck. But after some time, he came to enjoy the experience, and slowly and warily he straightened himself up, his legs clutching on Medianoche's sides tightly, his claws gripping on the horse's mane. He had to admit, the buffeting against his face felt amazing, and his wings tucked closer to his body._

_Soon Xibalba was crying out in excitement as he and Medianoche galloped at top speed through the meadow, their hearts beating as one. Xibalba saw a stone fence nearby, and led Medianoche towards it, intending to jump over it. But when Medianoche saw the fence, he braked abruptly sending Xibalba flying over the fence; the young god yelled in surprise and dismay when he flew towards a pond on the other side, landing with a splash. The horse neighed and went to the other side through the gate of the fence, approaching the pond just as Xibalba coughed the water out of his throat, spitting a fish. Water was dripping down his tarry skin and his soaked shirt and cloak. _

_Xibalba glared daggers at Medianoche, who simply snort in amusement._

* * *

Alastor giggled. "He threw you to the pond?"

"He did, And I wasn't happy about it." Still, Xibalba let out a chuckle in remembrance, patting his horse's neck gently. "Remember the bath I gave you as payback?" He smiled when Medianoche snorted in agreement and rubbed his head against his master's abdomen. Xibalba touched his head to check on his temperature, but found he was still hot. The dark god took a nearby towel to submerge it in the recently brought bucket of cool water, squeezed it and then dabbed the stallion's head with it to refresh him.

"He has been my partner for a long time, he even went with me to the wars."

"Wow. So he's a warhorse?"

"Well, I could tell he was not bred for that purpose, but he got used to the battlefield in no time. Medianoche was a good steed, we were known among the enemy troops a

s one of the best in the cavalry, very few dared to ride against me." Xibalba sighed sadly as he moistened the towel and dabbed his horse's head for the third time. . "But even we made mistakes sometimes…"

"What do you mean?" Alastor inquired.

"Sometimes there can be casualties during a cavalry charge… especially when you're the only one who does the charge."

"I don't get it…"

Another sigh. "I made the mistake of rushing full in to an enemy camp, without doing any kind of reconnaissance first to see what I was up against. A novice mistake." He regretted it deeply, he had years of experience in warfare by that time but he ws overconfident and he might say a bit arrogant in his horseman skills. "Long story short, we barely made it out alive, but Medianoche was injured…"

Medianoche neighed weakly and in discomfort.

Alastor didn't want to imagine Medianoche with a broken leg, or worse. He knew how much his father loved him. "Was it grave?"

"I was afraid his leg had broken, but thankfully Epona said it was just severely sprained, he just needed rest. Months passed before he got better…"

* * *

_He couldn't sleep knowing that his horse was injured because of him. _

_Epona's court veterinarian treated Medianoche with anti-inflammatory treatment, cold therapy and support bandaging. But it would take months for the horse to heal, and he could tell he was suffering very much. He had been afraid he'd have to be put down, but thank heaven it was not that severe. Only two more months of rest and he'd be back to normal._

_Xibalba walked into Epona's stables and headed to his steed's stall, finding him lying on the ground, resting. When Medianoche spotted his master, he raised his ears and neighed gently but excitedly; he was happy to see the dark god. Xibalba smiled as he stepped into the stall. _

_"__Hey there, __**chico**__." He said, sitting down next to his horse. "How are you feeling?"_

_Medianoche snorted in reply. _

_"__Are you comfortable enough? I know you're probably bored in here, but Epona said you still can't move much if not necessary." Xibalba searched in the pocket of his cloak and took out two sugar cubes, holding it close to his horse's mouth. "Here. I brought you some treats."_

_Medianoche pulled the sugar cubes into his mouth with his lips, and enjoyed the taste of his favorite treats. Xibalba smiled lightly and patted his neck, but a wave of guilt overcame him when he saw his right back leg with the support bandages. _

_"__**Chico**__, __**perdóname**__… This is all my fault. If I hadn't been so reckless you wouldn't have been hurt I'm just thankful you were not put down…" he felt a bit better when Medianoche nuzzled against his chest, grunting comfortingly as if assuring him it was not his fault. Xibalba thought maybe it wouldn't hurt to… Epona said he was much better now, and he'd need some therapy to walk again soon, anyway. The dark god stood up and picked a bridle handing from the racks, then kneeled down to put it on his horse. Xibalba then helped the stallion get on his hooves, careful not to make him move too quickly, his leg was still in the process of healing, after all._

_"__Come here, boy. Let's walk a bit, just like the old times, okay?" Xibalba smiled, slowly leading the horse out of the stall and into the large corral where Epona often placed her mares with foals. "Tsk, tsk." He clicked his tongue to signal him to walk. Medianoche slowly walked, trying to support on his hurt leg as less as possible. The morning breeze relaxed him, and the feeling of the grass under his hooves after so much time of being laid down on his stall he was happy. Xibalba spoke soothing words to him as they slowly circled around the fence, the sun rising from behind the mountains_

* * *

"Two months later he got better, but I didn't stay in the wars much longer after that. It wasn't worth losing my horse." Xibalba finished as he stroked Medianoche's neck gently.

Alastor yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was falling asleep, though he struggled to keep awake. Xibalba noticed.

"Are you tired, mijo?"

"N-No, I'm fine…" another yawn.

"I think it's time for you to go to bed." Carefully, Xibalba placed Medianoche's head back on a small pile of straw he gathered to act as a sort of pillow, and stood up to pick Alastor up. Though he tried not to, Alastor soon fell asleep, his head resting on his father's chest. A neigh from the neighboring stall caught the dark god's attention, and he saw Blanca glancing at her mate through the stall bars, stomping her hoof and shaking her head. Medianoche glanced up at her and snorted weakly. Xibalba telepathically opened Blanca's stall door, and the mare almost immediately walked out and entered Medianoche's stall, lowering her head to sniff at him, neighing gently. Xibalba smiled lightly.

"Take good care of him, would you?"

Blanca snorted in reply as he slithered away, still holding Alastor in his arms. As he carried his son up to his room, an idea came to him. He'd have to write to Epona later.

* * *

**To be continued in next chap…**


	31. Chapter 31

What Could Have Been

How to Train Your Horse.

The road to redemption was a long, arduous one.

Although he had been allowed to return to Aztlan, Víbora still kept his distance from the other gods, feeling like he didn't fit in. The other gods didn't want him around, anyway, he could tell it. Only a few had warmed up to him, particularly La Muerte and Xibalba's family and the Candlemaker. Xibalba still struggled to get along smoothly with Víbora, though he was now certain the basilisk had truly changed his ways. La Muerte and the children were another story altogether, every now and then they'd invite Víbora to the palace to catch up. Zipacna's feelings and opinion of the basilisk was neutral, since he hadn't actually met him that much before running away.

At the same time, Xibalba reestablished contact with an old friend of his, Epona, the Celtic Goddess of Horses, Donkeys and Mules. Although the other gods of the pantheon didn't have a good opinion of those from European pantheons, Epona didn't mind them. It surprised most other Goddesses that La Muerte was not jealous of that pagan goddess, but she knew that Xibalba felt nothing but sisterly affection for Epona. The day she arrived La Muerte and Xibalba received her warmly with a great feast.

Epona arrived in a milky white horse similar to Blanca, accompanied by her guards on armored horses.

Marigold and Alastor could tell this lady who just arrived was important, since their parents told them to fix themselves in their best clothing. There was a bit of a problem with Alastor; he was starting to grow hair on his head. It was wild, spiky black hair with a few white streaks that spread out in various directions. When they couldn't comb it, Xibalba opted to simply assort the locks of hair in order, which gave the godling a funny look. For the first time, Alastor had to wear a small suit in which he fit perfectly like a glove, only for the occasion.

"Epona." Xibalba smiled at his friend when she dismounted.

"Balby! It's been like seven thousand years, right?" Epona laughed in excitement, tiptoeing towards him and hugging him, before embracing la Muerte. "Muertita, how have you been doing?"

"We're doing quite well, Epona." La Muerte smiled. "How about you?"

"You know, dealing with the inquisition." She glanced at Marigold and Alastor, who by then had hidden behind their mother shyly. "Aww, and who are these little ones?" They hid behind their mother further.

"Epona, these are our children, Marigold and Alastor." La Muerte gently pushed her children forward so they could meet her. "This is Epona."

"Hey there…" Alastor managed to speak, waving his hand shyly at her.

"_Mucho gusto_." Marigold curtsied politely, like her mother had taught her.

"They're beautiful, guys." Epona smiled, and let out some giggles. "By the way, I brought you two some gifts."

At the word 'gifts' both Marigold and Alastor's eyes lit up in excitement. "Gift?"

Xibalba had the feeling what his friend was going to give them. "Don't tell me…"

Still grinning, Epona stepped aside and motioned two of her guards to come closer. The two stepped forward, leading two horses, a palomino gelding and a gray appaloosa mare, closer. Xibalba groaned internally, La Muerte stared at the two horses in surprise and the children were more than amazed as they ran forward to greet the horses, Marigold rushed to the palomino while Alastor showed more interest in the appaloosa.

"Oh, Epona, it wasn't necessary. " La Muerte smiled in surprise, staring at the horses.

"I missed most of their birthdays, I think the least I could do is give them a worthy gift to make up for it, don't you think?"

Alastor giggled when the appaloosa licked his cheek, while Marigold was trying to get her palomino to stop chewing on her hair, but even she was giggling in delight. Xibalba let out a sigh of dismay. He had _missed_ Epona's anctics.

* * *

Epona would stay at the palace for a few days, and in the meantime she caught on with Xibalba and La Muerte. They'd often chat during tea time or meals, and La Muerte would stroll through the courtyard with the foreign goddess, laughing and chatting as if they were sisters. Xibalba was a bit more formal with her, but Marigold and Alastor could tell he was very much attached to her, and they apparently knew each other for a long time. The two godchildren spent most of their time in the stables with their horses, and couldn't wait for the day their father would teach them how to ride. Speaking of which, Xibalba asked Epona to take a look at Medianoche in hopes she could heal him. Epona figured he had just a cold, and would get better with lots of rest and vitamins, but she still had her personal vet look after him.

When they were eating, their parents would engage in adult and boring conversations with Epona, mostly over simple things like what they had been doing all these years, how things were in their respective realms and overall their personal lives. Today they were having Italian food for lunch, since Epona wasn't used to Mexican dishes, but no one seemed to mind. Alastor and Marigold concentrated on eating their fettuccine alfredo with bacon, though they were interested in the conversation their parents were having with Epona.

As they ate, they were careful with their manners. Being the children of two of the most powerful death gods required that certain… appearances were kept in front of guests. They'd glance at their parents every now and then and watch them eat.

"So, you will be celebrating thanksgiving this year?" Epona inquired, taking a sip from her wine.

"La Muerte insists that it's a good way for the children to learn about customs from other countries." Xibalba replied with a sigh of dismay.

"By the way, one of my subjects commented he met you in Halloween."

"Sort of. I took the children to trick-or-treat."

"You could join us for thanksgiving if you'd like." La Muerte smiled at her friend. "the more, the better, we were also thinking on inviting Víbora to come over."

Xibalba grunted at this, and continued with his new york cut.

"Sounds interesting. And maybe I'll bring someone with me, she's a nice girl who often comes to my place."

"Good. The children could make a few new friends here." Xibalba chuckled. "They don't get along with the kids from our pantheon."

Alastor shifted in his seat, continuing with his meal. Maybe… He shouldn't get his hopes up, but maybe she was talking about _her_.

He could only hope.

* * *

As weeks went by, Epona eventually had to go back to her realm to tend some matters, but promised she'd return in time for thanksgiving.

Medianoche had gotten better, thankfully. The first thing Xibalba wanted to do was to take him out for a ride after so much time in his stall, but Epona suggested he rest for a little more to make sure the illness had been eradicated completely. So Medianoche was still stuck in his stall, often stomping his hooves and neighing, wanting to be let out. All he could do to spare the time was to lie down and sleep, or socialize with his stall neighbors.

Marigold and Alastor were fascinated with their newfound horses. Marigold liked to adorn her gelding, which she named Aguamiel, with pink ribbons on its tail and mane, often making him braids, to which the horse didn't mind. Alastor, meanwhile, found his appaloosa mare to be quite spicy and temperamental, so he opted to name her Pimienta. He had taken a hobby of sketching lately, and spent most of the time in the stables sketching Pimienta. One of those days Pimienta playfully snatched one of his sketches out of his grasp and he chased her around the stall trying to get it back.

"Man, I can' wait till papá teaches us how to ride!" Marigold chirped, placing another pink ribbon on Aguamiel's braids.

"Certainly." Alastor replied curtly, distracted on his latest sketch of Pimienta.

"Come on, Alastor! Epona didn't give us the horses just to study them! We're supposed to ride them!"

"Papá said he'd teach us when Medianoche got better. Besides, the last time you were on a horse you destroyed half the dining room."

"Hey, I was six! How do you even remember it? You were just a baby."

"Well, when your sister is about to trample on you in a horse it's hard to forget, don't you think?"

"Well…" Marigold blushed. "Maybe it did get out of hand… But I mean, riding a horse can't be that hard! Papa makes it look easy."

"It's easier said than done, you know."

"Maybe we could try to learn a bit about it, that way when papá teaches us he'll be impressed!

Alastor sighed, shutting his sketchbook shut. "In case you forgot, the last time we tried to learn something by ourselves I burned my hands."

"But this is different. You're older, and there's no danger in riding a horse."

"Except receiving a kick, a bit or getting trampled by if you don't handle it properly."

"There are books about it in the library, right?"

"I think so…"

"We could read the basics and try them out, it can't be that hard!"

Alastor wasn't so certain, however. "If mamá and papá find out they won't like it…"

"We could do it early in the morning before they wake up, it won't take very long."

"Since when are you the daring type? I thought you didn't like disobeying papá."

"I know, but come on! Epona didn't give us these horses just to watch them! It wouldn't hurt to practice a bit, don't you think?"

"Well, now that you mention it…"

"See? Let's do it!"

Finally, the younger god sighed in resign. "Fine, I guess it's worth a try."

* * *

The next morning, Marigold made sure that both their parents were asleep before going to wake Alastor up. Their first stop was the library, where Alastor grabbed all books about horses and horse training he could find (his father's courtesy), before both godlings snuck their way to the stables. They put a bridle on their respective horses and led them out of their stalls; Medianoche discovered their little scheme, and would have ratted them out if Alastor hadn't bribed him with a few sugar cubes. They led the horses to the corral just outside the stables, and made sure the gate was locked. It was still very early in the morning, most spirits were asleep in their homes, so they had about an hour before everyone woke up.

Alastor placed his books to the side and started to read. Again, Pimienta approached him with raised ears, sniffing at the paper.

"Come on, Alastor! Stop reading and let's do it!" Marigold hissed in a low voice. "We don't have time for that."

"I just want to check the basics!" Alastor retorted, giving another read at the page. "Stopping, walking…" Finally, when he was certain he knew enough, he placed his book aside and approached Pimienta's side only to find he was not tall enough to climb on her.

"Here, let me help you up." Marigold approached her brother and with a bit of difficulty helped him climb unto his mare. Alastor clung to Pimienta's mane, frightened of being on top of a horse by himself for the first time. He remembered when his father took him and Marigold for a ride on Medianoche, but that time there was a saddle and bridle. This time he'd have to rely on the mane.

"Okay, this can't be that hard…" Marigold managed to get Aguamiel closer to the fence so she could climb unto it, and then unto the gelding. "We're only supposed to kick the horse's side to make it move."

"Like this?" Alastor kicked Pimienta's side, making a small sound with his lips, stiffening when Pimienta started to walk.

"Yeah, sort of- whoah!" Marigold yelped when Aguamiel started to walk, following after Pimienta instinctively without being commanded to do so.

"Don't worry, horses are herd animals and tend to follow other horses for companionship." Alastor explained. "Papá said the thing is to show the horse who's in charge, but don't overdo it."

"I know, he said it was a mutual relationship, if you don't respect your horse, he'll never respect you."

Alastor pulled Pimienta's mane, but yelped when she snorted and gave a small jump, he quickly released it and she calmed down. "And we have to get to know them a bit before… riding them to avoid things like these."

"Hey, how about a trot?"

"Oh, no! We're not experienced in that, we could fall off and then mamá would kill us! We don't even have a saddle or a bridle!"

"So we just circle around the corral until we get bored?"

"It's the basic learning. Papá has to teach us about it when Medianoche is better, you know a horse kick can severely injure someone, don't you?"

Suddenly the horses left their circling around the corral and headed towards the wooden horse-feeder filled with water, then started to drink, ignoring their riders' rather clumsy commands to turn away and keep circling.

"I should have brought spurs…" Marigold muttered, then glanced at Alastor. "Or let me guess, do your books say anything against spurs?"

"Yeah, it advices against whips and spurs, certain horses can get nervous with them. and Epona would lynch us if we did that to a horse, remember what papá and mamá said."

"I guess you're right. I don't like the idea of whipping Aguamiel, anyway he's a good guy."

The horses finally lifted their heads from the drinking spot, but rather than obeying their riders' commands to keep walking they simply started to graze on the patches of grass. Realizing they would not be getting any response from the horses soon, the siblings decided it would be better to get off… until they realized it was higher than it looked.

"Uh, Mari, how do we get down?"

"You're the genius!"

"What do you complain about? You have wings!"

"Oh…" But as Marigold stretched out her wings, the shadow that spread out frightened Aguamiel and he neighed, rearing up. Marigold yelled in fright as she fell off her horse… and she would have hit the ground hard hadn't a pair of hands caught her. Alastor looked back in fright, and it only intensified when he found Marigold in their father's arms.

Xibalba sighed, shaking his head in disapproval. "_Niños_, I thought we had settled the topic of trying to learn things by yourselves."

"This time it was my idea…" Marigold laughed sheepishly, but looked down when her father frowned.

"_Niños_, why didn't you wait till I woke up? I could have at least helped you get to know your horses better." the dark god sighed, heading towards Pimienta and lifting Alastor off her back to place him on the ground.

"Well, you said Medianoche had to get better before you taught us to ride." Marigold replied.

"You're not understanding me. With 'getting to know your horses' I don't mean to ride them yet, I mean that first you have to interact as much as you can with them, earn their trust and get to know what they like and don't like." Xibalba explained, leaning his back against the fence and shifting his wings. "They have to trust you before you get on their backs or they won't listen to you."

Alastor thought for a while. "Now that you mention it, I think Pimienta doesn't like to be grabbed by the mane…"

"See? You have to learn things like that, learn to tell your horse's mood with a glance and what they mean to say."

"Papá, did you memorize all of that or did Epona tell you."

A chuckle. "I admit, Epona taught me all of those things when I met her. I was frustrated that all she did was tell me theorical stuff, I wanted to go straight to ride; the first time I tried to ride Medianoche your mother and I were children, but he was just a yearling and wasn't used to it. It was very funny, I fell on a pond."

Marigold and Alastor couldn't help but laugh at that.

"You two could have run the same luck, you know." Xibalba chuckled again. "So how about we take your horses inside to give them a good brushing?"


	32. Chapter 32

The Reencounter

* * *

The weeks before the thanksgiving dinner, Xibalba gave his children an assignment: to write in a small notebook the things they found about their horses and get to know them like the palm of their hand. Though impatient to learn how to actually ride a horse, neither Marigold nor Alastor protested. They took their notebooks, a pencil and went to the stables for a few hours to spend some time with their horses.

Marigold found Aguamiel liked to dance, his favorite treats were carrots, but he only accepted them after his oats and straw, he was a bit shy and didn't like strangers, and loud sounds frightened him. Alastor, meanwhile, discovered Pimienta was feisty, stubborn and hot-tempered, but obedient when not provoked. She liked music, especially classical, and a particular type of instrument in the morning and night; her favorite treat was _red_ apples (she didn't accept any other color) and alfalfa. Thankfully he had learned to play the oboe not long ago (along with the piano, courtesy of his father), so in the evenings after his and Marigold's tutor dismissed them for the day he went down to the stables and played the oboe for Pimienta.

He finished another piece of music, a small fragment of Mozart's Requiem, and placed the oboe aside temporally to regain his breath, while Pimienta continued to enjoy her straw, lifting up her ears when she noticed the music had stopped. Alastor smiled at her.

"Don't worry, girl. I just need to take a break." He told her gently. "The next melody is also about a boy and his horse. It's called Flames of Youth." Once he had regained his breath, he started to play another melody, and Pimienta relaxed again, and continued to eat her straw. Meanwhile, Marigold was brushing Aguamiel, and braided his mane and tail a bit, adorning them with pink ribbons; the horse didn't seem to mind.

"You're so beautiful…" she said, smiling as she glanced down at the salt rock. "You haven't tasted your salt rock." She kneeled down and started to lick it. "Tasty salt." She continued to lick the rock even after Aguamiel bent down his neck and started to lick it, and her tongue protested from the salty taste.

"Miss Marigold!"

Marigold sighed in dismay when she heard the familiar, sharp voice. An old skeletal lady who looked like she had been forty or fifty when she died was staring at the young goddess in utter disgust and slight sternness. Her gray hair was tied up in a severe bun, and she wore a simple black but patterned dress, as well. "Stand up immediately!"

"I was only showing Aguamiel about the salt rock, Edna." Marigold sighed, standing up and shaking the straw off the skirt of her dress.

"That's no excuse to lick that thing along with the horse! Do you have any idea of how many bacteria could be in that rock after a horse licks it?" Edna retorted, shaking her head disapprovingly. "You could get sick! How would I answer to your parents for my lack of care?"

Alastor stopped his playing, sighing, looking up at Pimienta and whispering to her. "That's Edna, our governess. Papá's wonderful idea."

"I heard you, young man." Edna walked over to the next stall and glanced at the young god. Her frown softened once the godlings walked out of the stalls. "Anyway, I've come to tell you that it's time you fix yourselves for dinner."

"Come on, Edna, it's only four o' clock. There's plenty of time for that." Alastor said.

"You say that, but what if something unexpected were to happen and the guests arrived earlier than they said they would? They would see you all dirty and unfixed, and your parents would look bad in the eyes of the guests. It's best you go take a bath and dress up, and then you may continue with your activities, but careful not to ruin your attires."

Alastor and Marigold exchanged glances. She did have a good point there, if there was something their father hated, it was his children not being ready when they were told. It had happened once when one of the other gods came to visit unexpectedly, and found Lord Xibalba and Lady La Muerte's children all spilled with mud, their hair messy and tangled, and they could tell he was not very impressed at the sight. Xibalba gave them a good scolding for that, and hence his idea to give them a governess to straighten them up. Alastor would no longer need Edna when he turned ten, though, his father would take care of his education from then on for obvious reasons.

"Fine, Edna. We'll go get ready." Marigold sighed.

Edna nodded approvingly. "Good. And don't forget, Lady Epona will be here at seven o' clock, so be ready."

The godlings closed the doors of their horses' stalls, and waved them goodbye as they followed Edna out of their stables.

Marigold and Alastor spent the next three hours fixing themselves, taking a bath to clean themselves of the straw they had gotten during their time in the stables, though it took Marigold a bit longer to take off all the straw from her hair and wings. Once they were clean, they slipped into their gala clothing, already laid out in bed for them, and Marigold brushed her hair to get rid of any leftover tangles, while Alastor had to comb his hair back; he didn't like it, but the deal with his father was that he could have his hair as wild as he wanted if he combed it in special occasions such as this.

When they were done, it was nearly seven o' clock. They barely had time to go down, accompanied by Edna. La Muerte and Xibalba were already there, waiting for Epona.

"You look good, _niños_." La Muerte smiled, running a hand through Marigold's curls and Alastor's combed hair, careful not to undo them. "I'm sure Epona will be delighted when she sees you."

"Thanks, mamá." Alastor blushed lightly.

"Who else is coming?" Marigold inquired.

"Well, your uncle will be paying us a visit, though knowing him he'll be 'a little late', and Epona said she would bring someone with her." Xibalba explained. "And your mother invited someone else without my knowledge."

La Muerte frowned. "Xibalba, don't be like that. You know he's been very lonely."

"When did you start inviting potential sociopaths into our home?"

"Xibalba! Don't refer to him like that!"

Before they could argue, the doors opened and Epona walked inside, her entourage apparently would wait for her outside as long as the dinner lasted. Alastor caught sight of a small figure behind her, familiar shades of red and yellow, golden skin and eyes like shining sapphires of different tonalities… a bell rang when he saw that girl, especially when her blue eyes set on him, and in a few seconds she had all but ran towards him and pounced on him with a hug, snuggling against him, much to the surprise of his family, Epona, and himself.

"Alastor!" she cried out happily.

That was when it came back. The butterfly in Transylvania when his uncle had taken him and Marigold to a small trip, the young girl with whom he had ridden a stag… Could it be…?

"Looks like introductions won't be necessary." Epona giggled, walking closer to the scene.

"Wait, this is the…. Girl you talked about once?" Xibalba inquired, staring at the young one with a disturbed expression.

"Feronia…" Alastor whispered, blushing.

"Aww, my little brother has a girlfriend!" Marigold giggled.

"She's not my girlfriend, she's just a friend!"

"That's how your father and I started, _mijo_, and look at us now" La Muerte couldn't contain a giggle at the sight.

Xibalba blushed. "La Muerte! I don't think you should be that specific!"

Epona grabbed Feronia's shoulder gently. "Feronia, I think you should let Alastor get back on his feet."

Feronia seemingly understood what she said, and stood up, letting Alastor get back to his feet, and he held out a hand to help her up, which she accepted gladly. Xibalba looked around to try and find something to distract himself with, which came in the form of a familiar basilisk, the dark god sighed. "Greetings, scaly butt."

Even though they didn't hate each other to death that much anymore, it didn't mean they didn't had mutual animosity for the other. A thing that most people but Xibalba could figure out, was that unlike the ruler of the Forgotten, Víbora knew when to put differences aside, which the basilisk used on his favor. Even though flinching at the nickname, he smiled politely and bowed his head. "Evening, My Lord and Lady." The sight of Xibalba's frustration that he didn't fall for it was enough for him.

"Greetings, Víbora." La Muerte curtsied politely, and Marigold mimicked her instinctively. At the sight of the basilisk, Feronia ran to hide behind Alastor in fright, staring at the giant snake fearfully.

"Don't worry, that's just Víbora, a friend of my parents."

"Acquaintance, my boy." Xibalba corrected him quickly, before receiving an elbowing from his wife. "Ow! What?" When he saw the stern look on her face, however, he remained silent. Epona glanced at Víbora in surprise.

"A basilisk? I thought they had gone extinct."

"Unfortunately they didn't-OW!" Xibalba winced again, this time at a small slap of flowers from La Muerte.

Víbora realized there were unfamiliar faces around, and bowed his head politely at Epona. "My apologies, miss…"

"Epona, mister Víbora." Epona smiled, curtsying. "And that is Feronia, my goddaughter." She glanced at Feronia, who tried to further hide behind Alastor.

"You never mentioned you had a goddaughter, Epona." Xibalba commented, still glancing at the wild girl who was clinging to his son.

"Well, considering we haven't spoken in a few years, I guess that's understandable. I will tell you all details, there's so much I have to tell you two!"

* * *

Much didn't even describe it.

The grown-ups were so caught-up in their conversation they practically forgot the children were there for a few hours. Marigold, Alastor and Feronia enjoyed their pepperoni pizza after eating a bit of turkey and mashed potatoes, while La Muerte and Xibalba caught on with Epona again, and Víbora would occasionally join in. Surprisingly, Feronia had learned a bit of English ever since their last meeting, though she still spoke in half-broken sentences and had a bit of difficulty with certain words.

"So Miss Epona is your godmother?" Marigold asked her politely. "And what about your parents?"

"My parens… are Rufus and Cecily…" Feronia managed to say.

"Why didn't they come?" Alastor inquired.

"They weren't able to… And daddy doesn't like interacting with foreigners…"

"He doesn't like foreigners?"

"No. He's afraid they might hurt me."

Once he was done with his pizza slice, Alastor had an idea. "Hey, Feronia, have you seen a horse?" what a silly question! The goddess of horses was her godmother, of course she had to have seen a horse! Lots of them, in fact!

"Y-Yeah… Auntie Epona often shows me her horses."

"She gave me and Marigold horses a few days ago. Do you wanna see them?"

When Feronia nodded enthusiastically, Alastor and Marigold made sure their parents were distracted in their conversation, and when they were certain they were immersed in it, slid off their tables and snuck off, Feronia tagging behind them.

"The girl is raised by who?!" Xibalba couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"A pack of lions, the big cats. Haven't you seen the Lion King?" Víbora chuckled with a slightly mocking tone.

"I know what a lion is!"

"Knock it off, you two!" La Muerte snapped, before turning back to Epona. "What happened to her parents? The real ones?"

"We don't know." Epona sighed sadly. "They just found her as a newborn near the den, but they didn't find anything related to her parents. They thought she was abandoned, and so took her in. Feronia doesn't know they are not her real parents."

"The lions?" Xibalba couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Her parents are lions, she is a goddess, and she doesn't figure out they are not her real parents?"

"They haven't had the heart to tell her. She is such a happy girl…"

"I can notice, she surely gets along with Alastor." La Muerte smiled

Meanwhile, Alastor and Marigold had already entered the stables, and led Feronia to their horses' stalls.

"This is Aguamiel." Marigold said, patting the palomino's head gently.

"And this is Pimienta." Alastor opened the stall of Pimienta's stall to let Feronia take a better look at her, but he didn't count on the appaloosa walking out of it on her own accord and heading towards the rock salt. "Hey, Pimienta, no! Get back here!" He remembered the golden rule; never get behind a horse, and approached from the side, trying to push her back towards her stall, but she ignored him and continued to lick it. "Pimienta!"

Feronia giggled, while Marigold sighed. "That's mare's as stubborn as a mule."

At the word mule, Pimienta turned to Marigold and snorted in annoyance, stomping her hoof on the ground. "Don't call her that, she hates it." Alastor told his sister.

"I can see why you named her like that." Feronia stated. "She acts like a pepper."

"She's nice, you just have to get to know her."

"Have you ridden her?"

"Actually, papá told me and Marigold to get to know out horses first before he could teach us how to ride them."

"Sort of like he did with Medianoche." Marigold added.

Feronia patted Pimienta's rear gently. "What snacks does she like?"

"Well, she likes red apples, she won't eat other color."

"Is she that smart?"

"Al, we should get back, mamá and papá will notice we're gone." Marigold said.

"I can't just leave Pimienta here! She could wander off on her own!"

Feronia thought for a moment, and concentrated some energy in her hand, seconds later a red apple materialized in her palm, and walked towards Pimienta's head. "Here, girl. Apple, apple."

Pimienta saw a spot of red in the corner of her eye, and turned her head around to find an apple held in the girl's hand. Almost immediately, she turned away from the salt rock and walked after Feronia as she went back to the mare's stall. Alastor kept the door open, and when Feronia stepped inside, Pimienta going in after her, she quickly stepped back outside, Alastor slid the door closed before Pimienta could get out. Still, Feronia held out the apple to Pimienta and let her take it.

"Thanks." Alastor smiled at her.

"Al, Feronia, really, let's go." Marigold insisted. "If papá figures out we left, he is not going to be happy."

"I know, I know." Alastor sighed in dismay, and glanced at Feronia. "Should we go?"

Feronia smiled at him and grabbed his hand. "Let's go." She led him out of the stables, the both of them going after Marigold. Alastor was blushing deeply as she touched his hand, and his heart drummed inside his chest once more. He remembered the talk his father had given him about the butterflies in his stomach, and it made him blush even more… Still, he couldn't help but smile sheepishly.

"_I think I'm in love_…"


	33. Chapter 33

What Could Have Been

Chapter 33- Scars

* * *

Xibalba took notice that Alastor had started to grow anxious and distant, and he refused to touch anyone, he started to reject any sort of physical affection and he'd spend lots of time locked in his room. He knew what that meant. It seemed it had happened. His son _had_ gotten _it_. He had hoped it was something else, but the signs were there, he knew it better than anyone; he had gone through it himself. He had to wait till Marigold and La Muerte had gone to bed to go to Alastor's room.

"Al?" he knocked the door. "Are you awake?"

It took a few seconds for a reply. "Go away."

"Son, what's wrong? Why are you acting like this?" He already knew, but he wanted Alastor to tell him. To trust him.

"I'm fine!"

"_Mijo_, I know you. Please, let me in. Let's talk."

A few moments later, Alastor unlocked the door, but when Xibalba walked into the room, his son had already teleported out of sight, into his wardrobe. However, Xibalba saw the decorative plant next to Alastor's bed was nothing but a withered stick now. He confirmed his suspicions to be true, especially when he heard Alastor sobbing from inside his wardrobe. Xibalba walked over to the wardrobe and opened it, finding Alastor curled up inside, he was trembling and sobbing.

"Son…" but as he reached out to touch him, the godling suddenly tried to retreat further into his wardrobe to no avail.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled, his eyes bloodshot from all the crying, hiding his hands behind his back.

"Alastor, it's okay…"

"I d-didn't want to…. It just…!"

"I know." Xibalba took his son in his arms and held him close, taking him to bed. "I went through that too."

Alastor looked up at his father. "What d-do you m-mean?"

"I have that… power too. It just came when I was three years old. I know how you're feeling, _mijo_."

"What if I h-hurt someone? I don't want to kill anybody, I-!" Alastor was interrupted when his father placed a finger on his lips, shushing him.

"You won't. It only affects living mortals and things who have a limited lifespan. It won't hurt other gods; you don't have to worry about hurting your mother, Marigold, or anyone else. Believe me, my boy. I felt like that when it manifested on me, but I promise you, you have nothing to worry about."

"What if kill Pimienta? Or a little animal?"

"You won't."

The despair turned into anger. "How come Marigold doesn't have it?! Why me?!"

"I don't…" Xibalba didn't really know what to say. He himself didn't understand why this curse only passed unto Alastor and it didn't seemingly affect his daughter. It seemed it had to do with the gender, maybe because of his father's experimenting with dark magic. "I don't know, son."

"It's not fair!"

"Alastor, I know you're scared, but trust me. Nothing will happen." He recalled there was something else he had come to give his son. He looked into his pockets and took out a small pair of black gloves, just like his own, but the flames adorning it were a reddish orange hue, and they were much smaller, just the size of Alastor's hands. "Here, these will help."

"What are those?"

"Special gloves. Just like mine. If you wear them, your touch won't affect anything or anyone." Xibalba promised, slipping the gloves into his son's hands. "Do you trust me?"

"I-I… I do…"

"Then don't cry, _mijo_. You have my word, as long as you have the gloves, nothing will happen, okay?"

Despite his worries, Alastor managed to nod at his father, unable to contain a small laugh as he ruffled his hair playfully, hugging him tightly, and feeling his wings wrap around him protectively in the familiar warmth.

* * *

A few days later, La Muerte and Xibalba were called in to Aztlan to the Yearly Gathering to discuss with other deities about negotiations and other things. Although they always took their children along, Alastor and Marigold didn't actually go into the meetings. They usually looked for something else to do while their parents were done. This time, however, Alastor invited Feronia to come along, much to Xibalba's chagrin, but La Muerte didn't see any problem with it. She thought it would be a good experience for Feronia.

But as soon as Feronia put a foot in Aztlan for the first time, she felt almost immediately out of place. Everything and everyone was so elegant, so poised and regal, and they looked at her like she was a sort of weirdo because se wore a home-made plain dress and didn't have the same manners as the others. Marigold and Alastor assured her it was okay, that she didn't need to care about what the others thought, but Tlaloc's daughters were making it a difficult task. In the end, they decided to go take a ride in the jungle; Feronia had never been on a horse before, so she was very nervous she rode with Alastor on Pimienta, somehow managing to cling unto him as he led the mare through the trees in a small trot.

"Don't worry, Fero, Pimienta might be a bit stubborn but she is harmless!" Alastor stated. "Most of the time."

At that, Pimienta let out an annoyed snort and stopped just in the middle of a clearing, refusing to go any further. Alastor groaned and tried to make her advance, but she refused to go on. Frustrated, the godling dismounted his horse and tried to make her move with the reins, but Pimienta remained stubborn. "Come on, Pimienta! I didn't mean it!"

Feronia giggled and managed to climb down the saddle by herself. "Okay, Al. This place… good." She still struggled with the new language.

"Hey, what happened?" Marigold arrived on Aguamiel and dismounted him, heading towards her little brother.

"Pimienta is being stubborn again!" Alastor sighed in dismay. The mare snorted and looked away with bent back ears.

Camazok landed a few feet away, panting. "Guys, the next time could you wait for me?"

"You think mamá and papá will notice we left?" Alastor asked his sister.

"Don't worry, they'll surely stay in that meeting for a good while. I don't think they'll notice for an hour." Marigold shrugged. "Anyway, how about we use it now?"

Alastor's face brightened as he looked into Pimienta's saddlebag and took out a small toy wooden bow fit for his size along with some blunt-pointed arrows. Feronia and Camazok walked closer to get a look at it. "What you going to do with that?" Feronia inquired warily. She had seen those before.

"Just going to shoot some arrows to something…" Alastor tried to look for something he could practice on, before spotting a big tree. "How about that tree?"

"No! Its alive, it feel pain!"

Camazok sighed in dismay as he materialized an apple. "How about this? Apples aren't alive anymore after you pluck them from the tree."

"But it's too small for Alastor." Marigold pointed out. She waved her hand on a spot on the grass and made a watermelon grow on spot. "There. That one is better."

Alastor enough steps back so he could shoot an arrow at the watermelon, while the other three godlings stood aside to avoid being hit. Alastor shot various arrows consecutively at the watermelon, but all his arrows didn't even go near it. There was one last arrow he could try with.

"Try to tense it up a bit more." Camazok suggested. "And keep the tip of the arrow close to the bow; also, the wind affects the speed and direction of the arrow."

Alastor did as told, but he didn't notice his right glove getting attacked to the fletching of the arrow. When he released it, the glove slipped off his hand and flew with the arrow, to make things worse the arrow flew much farther than his previous attempts, disappearing into the woods. Alastor panicked and he quickly hid his hand into his robe.

"Al, what's wrong?" Marigold inquired. "You're trembling."

"I-I'm okay…" Alastor stuttered, trying to keep his hand hidden.

"Why do you hide hand?" Feronia tried to grab his hand, but Alastor hid it behind his back.

"D-Don't…!" he grew nervous when they stared at him like he had gone insane. "I'll go get my arrow!" he ran towards the direction he saw his arrow disappear from, doing his best not to touch anything with his naked hand. He looked around frantically for his glove and arrow, and saw the arrow had landed on top of a tree's branch, his glove hanging from the fletching. However, as he approached the tree to try and climb up, he immediately retreated his hand when the bark started to wither at his touch.

"Al…?"

Alastor jumped when he heard Feronia's voice from behind him, and hid his hands behind his back as he turned around to face her. She was staring at the slightly blackened bark of the tree, then at Alastor. "What happened…?"

"It's nothing…! I was just trying to climb up the tree…!" Alastor partly lied, trying to contain his nervousness.

Feronia noticed his arrow and glove were stuck on the tree. She headed towards the roble and easily started to climb it until she was mounted on the branch where the arrow. However, instead of throwing the glove and the arrow down, she glanced down at Alastor. "I'll give them if you say what wrong!"

"Fero!" Alastor groaned in dismay. "I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Papá told me not to!"

"Why?"

"I don't know, he just did!"

"If you don't say, I don't give glove back!"

The godling groaned again, crossing his arms as he turned his back on his friend, biting back a sob. "If I don't wear it, my hands kills anything, okay?!" He tried and failed to keep his tears in his eyes. "And I hate it!"

As Feronia was going to climb down the tree, suddenly the two godlings heard a growl coming from the bushes. Alastor jumped back in fright when suddenly a large jaguar jumped out of its hiding place and lunged at them. Feronia screamed in fright when Alastor barely managed to avoid the big cat's claws and ran towards the tree, trying to climb it. This time he ignored the dying bark as he tried to climb up, Feronia grabbed his arm and helped him up unto the branch but the jaguar went to climb after them when suddenly a fireball struck it. The air smelled with burnt fur. The jaguar turned its attention on the older goddess, who had just arrived, charging another fireball in her hands.

"Camazok! Got get help!" she cried out at the bat godling, who nodded frantically and flew away as fast as he could.

Marigold threw the larger fireball at the jaguar, but it avoided it and ran towards her. Marigold was about to charge another fireball when she tripped and fell on her back. Marigold tried to crawl away from the jaguar as it was about to lunge at her.

"MARIGOLD!" Alastor reacted and teleported to the Jaguar's back in an attempt to divert its attention. The animal roared in pain when the godling's exposed hand started draining its life-force. In a fit of panic, the jaguar unsheathed its claws and managed to throw Alastor off, the claws coming into contact with his flesh, drawing a perfect line across his eyelid.

"ALASTOR!"

He didn't hear Marigold or Feronia's terrified scream, nor the jaguar's growls of pain as it darted off in fright with whatever strength it had left. All he heard was his own screaming as the excruciating pain of the fresh wound across his eye stung harshly, he tried taking a hand to his wound, but it only worsened. When he saw all the blood coming from the wound dripping unto the grass, his screaming of pain became intermingled with that of fright. His vision became blurry as his blood loss worsened, he managed to see the blurry shadows of Marigold and Feronia running to him, he managed to feel an excruciating stinging sensation when Marigold pressed a torn piece of her skirt against the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding. He managed to hear their frightened whispers as they tried to comfort him.

He heard more voices, all frantic and frightened, and another familiar shadow over him.

"ALASTOR!"

Xibalba nearly had a heart attack whne he heard a jaguar was attacking his children, but it was not compared to what he felt when he saw his son on the ground, a large bleeding wound across his eye, and screaming in pain. Hell, he didn't even had Medianoche saddled, he had come in a hurry. La Muerte wanted to come, but he convinced her it was best she called Asclepius 'in case' someone had gotten hurt while he went to rescue the children.

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" he screamed at Marigold and Feronia unintentionally, he was so frightened by what was gong on that he didn't bother to mind the volume of his voice as he pulled Alastor into his arms.

"A j-jaguar…! Alastor had c-come to l-look for his arrow b-but…" Marigold was crying her eyes out, pulling Feronia closer to keep her from seeing any more blood.

Xibalba quickly but carefully picked Alastor up, holding him close. "Alastor, stay awake! I'm here, mijo!" he summoned a proper piece, thick of cloth to press against his son's wound, wincing when Alastor winced in pain, sobbing uncontrollably in pain.

"it hurts…!" he yelled.

"I know, Alastor, but be strong! You're my son! I know you can!" Xibalba made his way back to Medianoche, who was waiting for his master faithfully. The dark god looked back at Marigold and Feronia. "Marigold, take your horses back with Feronia!"

"Yes, papá!" Marigold took Feronia's hand and led her back to where the horses were.

Xibalba climbed unto Medianoche and kicked him into a gallop, all the while holding Alastor close, tucking his wings close to his body as they galloped through the jungle, and arrived at the main courtyard of Aztlan. Almost immediately Xibalba dismounted and flew inside, towards the closest room.

La Muerte had been pacing outside one of the rooms when she saw her husband coming towards her with their son in his arms. "ALASTOR!" in a blink of an eye she was next to him, stroking Alastor's hair as the tears trickled down her cheek upon seeing the size of the wound and all the blood that had rolled down Alastor's face and unto Xibalba's armor, but overall her son's sobs and whimpers of pain made her heart shrink. "Mijito-!"

"Into the room! NOW!" Asclepius heard the commotion and opened the doors of the room. He let Xibalba and La Muerte come in before closing the doors shut.

Alastor felt weak. He felt he had lost about two liters of blood, he could barely keep his good eye open and sob. His mother was weeping, holding his hand tightly and stroking his head, speaking soothing words reassuringly, while his father soon shoved a small rag between his teeth to probably keep him from biting off his own tongue. He caught a glimpse of Asclepius dipping a clean piece of cloth in soapy water, but before he could even try to move away his father had already pinned him down by the shoulders.

"Alastor, Asclepius has to clean that wound." La Muerte managed to speak through her own sobs, brushing the hairs away from Alastor's bloody face.

Alastor bit down hard on the rag when the humid cloth came into direct contact with his wound, and the stinging returned thrice as worse as before, his scream was locked into his throat as he weakly tried to thrash out of his father's grip.

"Son, it'll be okay. Trust me, everything is going to be okay, I promise you." Xibalba whispered reassuringly, but he feared the worst. He had seen people losing their eyes for similar wounds in the wars, he feared that fate would fall unto his son.

Alastor was sweating heavily and was barely conscious now, but the pain was the only thing that didn't leave him. Asclepius used up to five clean napkins to completely clean the wound off any dirt that might have gotten into it, removing all the bacteria, but now he had to disinfect the eye. The wound wasn't deep enough to cost the boy his eye, but without the proper care that could change in less than a minute. After setting the bloody napkins aside, he poured alcohol into a new, clean one and gently pressed it against the wound, again making Alastor scream in pain and wiggle around, his tears intermingling with the blood. After the wound was disinfected, Asclepius summoned an eyedropper with a cleaning solution for the eye, but it would be very hard to pour it into it. He had to make Alastor open it.

"Alastor, I need you to help me in opening your eye." Asclepius tried to carefully shift the eyelid open, but Alastor moved his head away in fear, closing his eye shut even more.

"Al, it's to clean your eye, it'll be okay…" La Muerte cooed gently, but the fear and the pain was still present. "Do it for mami, okay…?"

His mother's sweet voice gave him the courage he lacked. Alastor managed to open his eye only to some extent, whimpering in pain when Asclepius gingerly and carefully opened the rest of the eyelid as carefully as the could, pouring a few drops of the liquid into his eye. It stung a bit, but it wasn't compared to the alcohol.

"It's going to need stitching."

Xibalba noticed Alastor stiffening and becoming frightened of it. He knew the pain was unbearable, the needle piercing a small spot on your flesh and then the thread going through it like a thin sharp snake. But he had already reached adulthood the times he needed to have his wounds stitched, and none had ever been at such a sensitive part. He knew La Muerte wouldn't bear to see her baby going through that agony so young. The dark god glanced at Asclepius pleadingly. "Isn't there a way we can keep him from from going through this?"

By then, Alastor didn't understand what they were saying anymore. His vision became blurry as the blood loss started to take its toll on him. He managed to see Asclepius handing something to his father, saying something in a low voice. The last thing he remembered was his father placing a napkin on top of his nose and mouth, it smelled weird. The odor somehow made him sleepy, and it wasn't long before the pain turned numb, and everything went black…

* * *

The next time he awoke, he felt his right eye sore, and when he regained his senses he noticed he couldn't see anything through his right eye. He panicked momentarily, thinking his eye had been taken out, but he didn't feel like there was nothing in his eye socket, rather it seemed there was something covering it. Alastor shifted in bed, and he felt a hand stroking his forehead. As his vision cleared, he made out a figure sit in the edge of the bed and string down at him in worry. "Mamá…?"

"Shh, it's okay, _mi niño_…" she whispered, brushing some strand hairs away from his face.

"What happened…? What happened to my eye...?"

La Muerte looked sad, but she continued to stroke his head. "Asclepius had to stitch the wound, but thankfully your eye did not suffer any other damages." Alastor tried to sit up, but his mother gently stopped him. "You need to rest, sweetie."

"Where's Marigold...? and Feronia?"

"They arrived shortly after your father brought you, they're outside waiting to see you."

"And papá?"

"He went to gather a new bandage and some disinfectant. It's time to change your bandage."

Alastor remained silent, just breathing and staring at the ceiling with his good eye. "What happened when I was sleeping?"

"Asclepius stitched the wound and explained how to care for it. You have to be careful not to receive any hits in your eye."

Just then, the door opened and Xibalba walked in holding a tray with a bowl of warm water, clean napkins and new bandages. Alastor directed his attention to him. "Papá, where are Marigold and Feronia."

"I sent them to sleep, mijo." Xibalba said, sitting down on the edge and placing the tray aside. "It's late already, and they needed rest too."

Alastor was disappointed he didn't get to see his friend and his sister before they went to sleep, but he guessed his father knew what he was doing. La Muerte gently lifted her son's head and started remove the dirty bandages. Alastor felt a bit of relief when the partly blooded bandages and gauze were removing, giving his eye some fresh air, but his right eye stung too much for him to even try to open it. He winced when his father started to gently wipe the wound clean of all dried blood with the humid cloth, before he started to disinfect the wood with some gauzes. Alastor bit his lower lip trying to contain a small sob. With some difficulty the godling managed to open his eye slightly to let his mother apply a few drops of disinfecting solution, the same from before, in it. It stung for a while.

However, before La Muerte could place a clean gauze on the wound, Alastor stopped her with his hand. "Mamá, wait… I want to see my reflection."

La Muerte and Xibalba exchanged a worried glance. They didn't know how he'd react when he saw the wound. "Mijo, I don't think it's a good idea…"

"Mamá, I need to see."

Xibalba sighed and took out a mirror from the drawer. La Muerte grabbed her son's hand tightly when her husband held the mirror out for his son to see. Alastor gasped in shock when he saw the state his eye was in. The cut was stitched, the flesh was still reddish in the corners, and it ran all across his eye in a diagonal line. It didn't look good.

"I'm sorry, _mi niño_…" La Muerte said sadly. "It's going to heal, but it'll leave a scar."

"I look like Frankenstein…" Alastor sobbed and hid his face under the pillow.

"What's wrong with Frankenstein? He's cool, I mean, he's made out of different body parts from different people-OW!" Xibalba winced when his wife sent a firework right to his face in the manner of a slap. He was about to protest when La Muerte glared at him and he noticed Alastor wincing at his comment. "I'm sorry, Al, I didn't mean to…"

Alastor didn't say anything. He just remained immobile with his face hidden under the pillow; La Muerte gently took the pillow off. "Honey, we have to put the bandage back on."

"Okay…"

He didn't protest as a new gauze was put under the new set of clean bandages. La Muerte planted a kiss on his forehead and stroked his hair. "Would you like something to eat, sweetie?"

"I think so…"

"I'll bring you something tasty, _mijito_." La Muerte smiled kindly at her son in an attempt to cheer him up before standing up and walking out of the room, silently closing the door behind her.

When they were by themselves, Xibalba glanced down at his son in worry. "Did something else happen, mijo? I noticed you only had one of your gloves on…"

At the reminder, Alastor stiffened, recalling the jaguar's roar of pain and its life zapping away as it ran off. "…Papá… Have you ever… killed someone with your touch?"

Xibalba knew where this was going. "I'm not happy to say that I did…" he sighed sadly. "When I was a child, I went to San Ángel, but bandits attacked and I couldn't change back with so many people around. I was eventually cornered, and I saw no other choice…"

"Was it quick? What happened to the bandit?"

"At first it didn't look like nothing, but then suddenly he started to grow old in mere seconds and soon after he turned into dust. I had to escape almost immediately before an angry mob could come at me for 'sorcery'." Xibalba noticed his son's expression had turned serious and worried. "Did something… happen?"

"I touched the jaguar." Alastor said, sighing sadly. "He was going to attack Marigold…" His eyes swelled up with tears. "But then i-it started t-to scream… It was s-suffering…"

Xibalba pulled his son closer into a hug, wrapping his wings around him as he stroked his head. "Let it out, _mijo_… let it out."

"What if I k-killed it…?"

"Shhh… don't think about it right now."

Alastor continued to weep, burying his face into his father's chest as he tried to withdraw his still naked hand from touch.


	34. Chapter 34

Marigold and Alastor were awed at the beautiful, stranger landscape as the carriage advanced through the wide cobblestone path through the Japanese countryside. Mount Fuji was rising in the horizon, surrounded by endless forests and cherry blossom trees still in bloom.

"I can't believe it, it's even better than in the books!" Marigold was laughing happily.

"It's only for three days, children, and remember, don't go into the forest alone." Xibalba reminded them.

"I wish mamá could have come…" Alastor muttered.

"Me too, my boy… But she had to settle down some conflicts with Tohil and Ehécatl…" Xibalba lamented his wife couldn't come as well; it was his first time alone with the children. "But don't worry, we'll have fun! I mean, when I'm done with my… business."

"What business do you have in Japan?" Marigold inquired. "You've never told us."

"It's grown-up stuff, _niños_. That's all you need to know."

"Why can't we go into the forest?" Alastor asked, looking at the trees as the carriage passed through a dense forest. "I hear there are plenty of Yokai around here…"

"That's the problem, mijo. Too many Yokai. And they're not friendly." He saw the scarring wound on his son's right eye. The stitches had been removed, the wound was still there, and the scar would always be there. He didn't want to imagine what a Yokai, much more intelligent, vicious and powerful than a mere jaguar, could do to his son. He didn't want to fear for his son's life again.

It wasn't long before they came to their destination. It was a decent-sized Japanese home, but big enough to house an adult god and two godlings… and a very uncomfortable lizard.

"I swear, if I see one of those lady spiders again, I'll kill myself before she can devour me…"

Xibalba chuckled. "Just stay in the house at night and you'll be fine."

Soon, Marigold and Alastor were checking out the house, claiming their own rooms, though they made sure not to make a mess. Soon after, they went down to the tearoom, where their father was waiting for them. Xibalba was drumming his fingers on his staff, reluctant to leave his kids alone. But they would get bored at such a formal event, and he didn't want to bore them out in their first trip.

"Children, I'll go out for a few hours. Juarez will be staying with you meanwhile, I will do my best to return as soon as possible." He motioned his two children to come closer. "But whatever happens, don't go into the forest alone, and much less at night."

"Yokai?" Marigold inquired.

Xibalba nodded. "Can you do that for me?"

Alastor nodded. "Yes, papá."

Xibalba felt a weight being lifted off his chest as he kneeled down and pulled his two children into an embrace. "Take care."

With that, he left.

Alastor sighed and went to the garden while Marigold went to take a better look around the Japanese home. He sat in one of the benches underneath the cherry tree, staring at the direction of the forest. It didn't look that dangerous, but his father said there were Yokai in there. He had read a bit about them, and he could say a few were very dangerous, and most of them had a tricky nature, but… there were good Yokai too, right? However, his hand went up to the scarring wound across his eye, flinching as he did so. He didn't want to go through this experience _ever_ again.

But then he heard it.

It was a cry coming from deep into the woods, maybe farther. It wasn't human, it was like that of a bird, but… there was a mystical feeling to it. Alastor wondered if it was a Yokai, or if it was just some unfortunate bird that fell into a trap. He didn't know what to think… but there was something about that call… It was calling him, drawing him in. He had promised his father he wouldn't go into the woods, but it wasn't night yet… maybe he had a few hours before sundown.

Alastor sped towards the trees and ran through the woods, jumping over small gaps, crossing small streams through fallen logs and avoiding the branches. The call was becoming louder as he followed it to is source, deeper into the forest until he came before a high wall of stone that led up into a small mountain. The call of the bird had ceased, but his curiosity had aroused. Reluctantly, he started to climb up the cliff. But it did take him a while to near the top, doing his best not to look down. If he panicked and lost his grip he'd be done for, Marigold didn't know he was here, and he didn't have any wings to save himself should anything go wrong. Gulping, Alastor continued climbing the rocky wall.

When he finally came to the top, he saw the largest bird he had ever seen. He could tell it wasn't a normal bird, however. This one was had a sort of resemblance to an eagle, but with the long and elegant neck of a swan, a long tail consisting of golden feathers with orange tips, and a similar crest on its small but pretty head. The bird's body feathers were a beautiful shade of red with golden edges on its main flight feathers. But the beautiful creature was tangled up in ropes, the work of a human, apparently. Alastor was about to approach when he noticed there were some kind of paper tags on the ropes, and he saw kanji written on the tags.

Warily, Alastor approached the bird, but the moment the animal's dark eyes set on him, it panicked, letting out a shriek as it struggled to get free from its bindings. "It's okay, boy… or girl…" Alastor felt awkward to talk to a bird, but nevertheless he continued. "Don't worry, I can help you… I think." The bird seemingly understood what he said, though it didn't completely calm down.

Alastor took a look at the thick ropes, and realized it would take him a while to cut them off even with magic. Maybe if he found the right ropes that pinned the bird down… Summoning a small but hot flame in his hands, he burned off the rope that pinned the birds, and then other two that pinned the bird's neck and chest. Alastor barely had time to duck as the bird managed to stand on its two legs, breaking the rest of the bonds free while giving a cry of relief.

But he didn't have time to react as the bird took off and grabbed him by the shoulders. He could only yell as the bird flew higher and higher into the sky. Alastor was yelling in fright as they passed over the layer of thick, white, fluffy clouds, the bird arched its neck downwards to look at him, but there was no malicious glint to its eyes. It cried at him in an almost reassuring way. Suddenly the godling felt like laughing when he felt something tickling him: the bird was, indeed, tickling him with one of its claws.

Alastor yelped in fright when the bird suddenly flung him high into the air just to catch him on its back, and ye gripped on its feathers for dear life as it continued to soar higher and above the clouds, until the seemingly endless sea of clouds before them came to an end and was replaced with the endless forest around Mount Fuji with the crystal lakes beneath them. Alastor panicked when the bird started to dive down towards one of the lakes, the wind stinging his scarring wound, but nevertheless he started to laugh. He wondered if this was how his father and Marigold felt like when they flew.

Soon the bird's talons were touching the water lightly, flapping its wings to gain altitude once more as it started heading over to mount fuji. Alastor clung to the bird's feathers as it took him towards a small crevice on the side of the mountain. It wasn't that much deep, only deep enough to harbor a nest made out of myrrh, cherry tree branches and straw. The bird landed on the nest, while Alastor let himself fall unto the large nest. He looked towards the mouth of the rocky gap and saw the beautiful landscape of the Japanese lands spread out, with the sun starting to make its way down to hide beneath the distant mountains.

"Wow…" Alastor stared at the scenery in awe, before a giant golden wing pulled him close, and soon the bird's head was inches close to him, its black eyes examining him curiously. It looked funny. When the bird turned its head upside down, almost like an own turning its head, he did the same, smiling when it tilted its head. However, he lost his balance and fell, right next to a small pile of particularly accumulated straw.

The bird approached and starved moving the straw away, revealing three beautiful, pearly white eggs.

Alastor's eyes widened in realization. "You're a mother…" he whispered in awe as he kneeled down next to the eggs, warily running a hand over one of them. It was warm. "They're warm… Will they hatch any soon?"

The bird, a female, ruffled her feathers, which he interpreted as a shrug. Alastor stepped aside to allow the bird to lay on top of her eggs to give them warmth. He wondered if the mother was here, where the father was. Usually birds looked after their eggs as a couple. Was he flying around…? The female bird was looking around anxiously, as if she were waiting for something… or someone. "Where's the dad?"

The female bird glanced at him again, again ruffling her feathers in a shrug. Alastor guessed she didn't know where he was off to. "My dad is doing some business too, he will by back by sundown, though."

A while later, he was helping the bird cover the eggs again with the warm straw and branches. A speck of gold caught his attention. There was a long, golden tail feather sticking out from the straw. Alastor slid it out of the pile, running his fingers down it. It had a velvety feeling to it, he brushed the tip against his cheek and smiled at the ticklish sensation. Still, he placed it back on the straw covering the eggs. However, the bird gently grabbed it with her beak and held it out to him. The godling gently took it, before he was overwhelmed by happiness and hugged the bird's head in return.

The ride back home wasn't as much wild, but he didn't mind. The bird left him in a clearing near the house, he bid her goodbye with one last hug before she took flight, shrieking in delight as she flew away, and disappeared through the clouds once again. Alastor looked at the long feather in his hands before tucking it carefully into his cloak, then he started for the way home. But as he walked down the forest back home, he heard sounds around him. At first it was branches snapping and leaves ruffling, but then he started to hear whispers…

"_That's the… kid who saved her?_"

"_He's not human_."

"_It's pretty obvious he's not human. I bet he's not even from around these parts_!"

"_Should we talk to him_?"

"_Are you nuts?! He'll run away_!"

"_We have to take him back, anyway!_"

Alastor looked around, trying to find the sources of the voices. Before he could say anything, something passed between his feet, making him trip, then something slimy and scaly wrapped around him tightly. Alastor was about to cry out when a scaly tail wrapped around his mouth, silencing him.

On closer inspection, he noticed the rope was a long green snake, it lifted its head and glanced at him with glowing orange eyes. "You have a weir look, you know."

Alastor struggled while letting out muffled yells, but froze when suddenly more shapes came from the forest and approached him. A turtle-like creature with beak and priest hairstyle, another similar but with longer limbs and streamlined face, an oversized fox and a ghostly dog with little spectral flames floating around it.

"He's not that impressive." The fox said. "He's small and doesn't seem to use magic that much."

"He's young, maybe he hasn't learned." The dog stated.

"If he didn't have magic how did he save Hoo?" the taller turtle creature stated.

"How about we let him tell us?" the snake said. "He doesn't have a reason to lie, does he?"

Alastor was trembling in fear, and it augmented when the snake removed his tail from his mouth. Those were not normal animals, and he had an idea of what they were.

"Are you Yokai?" was all he managed to ask.

"He's smart." The fox pricked his ears. "It's okay, whatever-your-name-is."

Surprisingly, the fox and the dog bowed respectfully as a greeting, while the two turtle-like Yokai bowed their heads slightly, and he noticed a sort of water in their partly-hollowed heads. The snake bowed his head too, in his case because he was wrapped around the godling.

"I'm Kappa." The shorter turtle-like Yokai, a Kappa, said before motioning to the much taller creature. "He's my cousin Garappa."

"My name's Kitsune." The fox smirked.

"I'm Uwabami." The snake stated.

"I'm Inugami." The dog barked amiably.

Alastor was partly confused by their friendliness. Was it a trick to get him to lower his guard, or were this friendly Yokai? In any case, he felt he had to introduce himself. "I'm A-Alastor…"

"That's a weird name." Kitsune stated. "Where are you from, little boy?"

"I come from the Land of the Remembered…"

"The what?" The Garappa inquired in confusion.

Right, they had no idea of that. "It's an afterlife where people remembered by their relatives in the land of the living go to…"

"You mean the underworld?" Inugami said.

"Well, it's beneath San Ángel, a town in the Land of the Living, and beneath the Land of the Remembered is the Land of the Forgotten…"

"Forgotten?"

"That's where people who are not remembered go to, and turn into ash…"

"I'm confused." Uwabami tilted his head.

"It's actually thirteen Lands of the Dead where I come from…"

"Wow, and here I thought having nine was too much…" Kappa muttered.

Once Alastor was certain these Yokai wouldn't harm him, he decided it was a good time to ask. "Aren't you going to eat me?"

"We can't even if we wanted to." The Garappa sounded disappointed. "We Yokai have forbidden to harm gods of any kind, that includes godlings and foreign ones."

Kitsune asked. "Say, are you related to Kokushibyo?"

Now it was Alastor's turn to blink in confusion. "Who?"

"That big black skeleton with crow wings who rides a black steed." Kappa explained.

"Oh, you mean my dad?"

"That guy gives me the creeps." Uwabami said, shivering in discomfort. "His eyes are scary! They turn around and it feels like they are glaring at you!"

"He doesn't usually do that unless he's mad or wants to see into a person's mind. It's called Soul Gaze."

"Whatever it's called, he gives us the creeps!"

"He looks scary, but he's nice."

"Anyway, that's not the point." Kappa said, realizing they had gotten out of topic. "We're here because you saved Hoo."

Alastor was about to ask what they were talking about until he recalled the bird. "Wait…. You mean that pretty red bird who took me to her nest?""

"Oh, she took you there too? She must really like you!" Inugami cried out happily.

"Like me?"

"She doesn't take just anyone to her nest, you know. It's almost a privilege."

"So, what do you guys need?" Alastor asked nervously. " I mean, you just came out of nowhere and-"

"Don't worry about that." Garappa said, shrugging. "If we had wanted to do something to you, we would have done so already."

"We were supposed to see if you didn't touch a feather on Hoo's body." Kitsune explained. "She's of the few Sacred Birds that remain on the face of the earth."

"Hurt her? Me? She could have torn me apart if she wanted to!"

"You're right, but she apparently gave you one of her own feathers. She must have seen something special about you…"

Alastor gathered the courage to speak. "Guys, I don't mean to be rude, but I really have to go back to the house… My dad will be mad if he returns and I'm not home…"

"Sounds good, but we'll have to accompany you." Uwabami stated. "The moment you came into contact with Hoo, you were dragged into the Spirit Realm, also known as spirited away among mortals."

Kitsune chuckled amusingly at Alastor's expression. "Don't worry! You're not a human, so you're not trapped here forever. You were simply transported by someone else, we'll bring you out of the Spirit Realm when we get you home."

"How does the spirited away thing work?"

"See, the rule is this: if you come into direct contact with a Yokai, or if you pass a certain, invisible portal like under a bridge or enchanted statues, you pass unto the Spirit Realm. Once inside, you cannot leave unless helped by a spirit. In your case, you simply need to learnt the proper way to go into and then leave the spirit realm, nothing too serious."

Alastor couldn't help but smile a bit at the Kappa. "I like learning. How does it work?" he had been wanting to learn some magic, anyway.

* * *

All day he couldn't help but worry about Marigold and Alastor, alone with Juarez in the house in the middle of the woods where countless Yokai roamed around. He finished his business as quickly as he could, but still he didn't return until sundown, like he had said. After leaving Medianoche in the stable, he immediately went to see if his children hadn't been spirited away.

Xibalba stepped into the living room, finding Marigold reading a book, sitting Indian style on top of a cushion around a small tea table. She looked up to see her father entering, and smiled. "Hey, papi. How did it go?"

"Exhausting." Xibalba sighed, looking around for certain signs of a certain godling. "Where's Alastor?"

"Last time I checked, he was on the garden."

Xibalba rushed out of the living room, and out into the garden. It was already darkening, Yokai were more active at this hour, especially the Oni… Thankfully, he soon spotted a familiar figure lay down on top of some flowers on the grass. Xibalba became alarmed momentarily until he saw his son shifting on top of the flowers. Sighing, he walked closer to see if everything was alright. Alastor was deeply asleep, snoring lightly. Xibalba couldn't help but laugh gently, another of the things the boy had gotten from him.

Carefully, he picked Alastor up in his arms and carried him inside the house. He went to one of the bedrooms and placed his son on… the ground. he never understood why Japanese slept on these things, but he guessed it was a cultural thing. It looked like it was comfortable enough, though. He made sure Alastor was comfortable on top of the futon before covering him up with the blanket.

That was when he noticed a red feather in his hands. Curious, Xibalba carefully slipped it off Alastor's hands and took a good look at it. It was a beautiful fiery red with some golden at the tips, he wondered which bird he could have gotten it from. There was something familiar about it, he swore he had seen it before, a long time ago… he'd have to take a look at a book later. For the moment, he just placed the feather next to the futon, and bent down to plant a small kiss on his son's cheek.

"_Buenas noches, mijo_."

With that, he stood up and headed towards the door, glancing back to watch Alastor's sleeping figure one last time before leaving the room.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35- Their First Fight

_He had waited till everyone had gone home, till La Muerte and Marigold were asleep, to leave bed and look under his pillow, taking a folded starry baby blanket out. Then he made his way out of the bedroom, down the corridor and into Alastor's nursery. There were still colorful birthday balloons tied to the end of the cradle, though up to now there were no sounds coming from the cradle. He was probably asleep. _

_Xibalba walked closer to the cradle and peeked inside, his chest warming up when he saw his baby boy asleep, suckling into his blue pacifier. He felt terrible that he needed to wake him up. _

_"__Pssst…" he reached down his hand and stroked his son's cheek tenderly. "Al?" _

_Alastor stirred in his sleep, frowning and giving an annoyed sort of 'grunt'. Xibalba laughed at it, just another of the things his little boy had gotten from him, he grunted when annoyed or angry. "It's okay, my boy. I'm papi… Sorry if I woke you up. But I have yet to give you your birthday present. I wanted to give it to you in private, you know. It's very special for papi."_

_With that, Xibalba unfolded and held out the baby blanket, revealing a beautiful night sky pattern. Alastor's little eyes were fixed on it, cooing curiously. _

_"__My mami made it for me when I was your age. As long as you have it, you'll always have a little part of me with you." He gently covered Alastor with the blanket, and smiled when the baby started touching it and examining it, even going as far as to take a part of it into his mouth. Alastor started to sob, reaching out his little hands up to his father. _

_"__Shhh, it's okay, my boy." Xibalba cooed, swaddling Alastor in the blanket and then picking him up, holding him close to his chest. "I'm here. I will always be there for you, I promise. I'll be the best papi ever." He chuckled when Alastor clung to his face again, it was a sort of habit he had developed in his early months, and it stuck to him. It tired his arms to keep him up and close to his face, but he loved it anyway. It was evident Alastor was going to take after him the most; he just couldn't wait till his baby boy grew a pretty moustache and beard like his. He couldn't wait till he learned to walk, till he learned to speak, there were just so many things he wanted to do with him, manly things he couldn't do with Marigold for… obvious reasons, like going fishing, boxing, talking about girls and dates, teach him how to care for his moustache… _

_Soon, he went to sit in the rocking chair and gently swayed it with his wings, gently bouncing Alastor as he sang a lullaby; it was a secret one, but which he kept close to his heart, it was the lullaby Selena would often sing to him and Zipacna in the good old days. Marigold had not heard it, he had saved it for his little boy. Soon Alastor's little eyes started to shutter, all the while looking up at his father, before he finally fell asleep in his father's embrace. _

_Xibalba planted a kiss on Alastor's forehead, stroking his cheek with his thumb. "Dulces sueños, hijo mío…"_

* * *

Marigold had the feeling something was going on ever since Alastor went to play in the woods. She didn't tell her father because she thought he wouldn't go that far, but surprisingly despite being gone for only half-an-hour he claimed he was very tired and went to take a nap. Then the following day, he was evasive at breakfast time, and he looked like he was in a sort of hurry to go to the woods. Xibalba noticed it too, but he said nothing on the matter just yet. He was planning to take the children around the countryside to show them how Japan was like. They took human form and went into a village, where the townspeople received them rather warmly. However, soon Alastor managed to sneak past his father and into the woods. She asked her father if she could go pick some flowers, and he agreed, but warned her not to go into the forest alone.

Of course, she didn't listen to him. Xibalba pretended to be distracted enough for her to go into the woods, just like he told her not to, but he had the feeling of why she had gone there in the first place. That feather Alastor had didn't belong to any ordinary bird. He had not seen the Sacred Hoo, but he had seen enough pictures to tell what their tail feathers looked like. And there was only one way Alastor could have obtained that feather…

He was so going to give those kids a good scolding for disobeying him. He kept a considerable distance as he followed Marigold, who in turn was following Alastor. He made sure they wouldn't notice his presence; he wanted to confirm his suspicions first.

Alastor soon came to the clearing where he and Kappa usually met. He found the Yokai there, looking a bit nervous, and he was sweating, when he heard hurrying footsteps he was momentarily startled until he noticed it was Alastor. "Man, don't scare me like that!"

"What's up?" Alastor inquired.

"Sorry, I had a little problem with an Oni a while ago, and I'm technically on the run!"

"Oni? You mean the-?"

"Alastor!"

The godling jumped when he heard Marigold's voice, and panicked when she ran out of the bushes. Kappa was partially stricken by how beautiful she looked, but he needed a look at her wings to realize she was related to Kokushibyo.

"M-Marigold, I can explain-!"

"Papá said you shouldn't come into the forest, and much less interact with Yokai!" Marigold snapped, pulling her little brother back protectively.

"Kappa's not dangerous! He's my friend!"

"He's of the most dangerous type of Yokai!"

"Technically, an Oni would outrank me in the 'dangerous' category..." Kappa pointed out, only to flinch when the goddess glared at him. He could tell she was not to be messed with. "Nevermind."

Alastor released his arm from his sister. "Marigold, stop! He wouldn't hurt anyone!"

"I have to disagree with that, my boy."

This time, the three froze as a new voice joined in. Xibalba had seen enough, and he did not like it. He stepped out from the trees, his gaze disapproving. Kappa gulped in fright and stepped back, just in case the Kokushibyo would attack him.

Marigold tried to say something. "Papá, I was just-!"

"You have nothing to worry about, mija. You are not in trouble for trying to save your brother." Xibalba's glare set on Alastor. "You, on the other hand…"

Alastor gulped. "Papá, let me explain-!"

"You think a Kappa wouldn't hurt anyone?" Xibalba repeated, stepping forward and grabbing his son by the arm. "With all the books you've read, I thought you'd be more informed on that." He glared at Kappa, warning him to stay away. "As far as I know, your kind drowns humans, children mostly, and you eat their livers, and let's not forget how you rape women."

Kappa was intimidated, but he wasn't going to just stand by without defending himself. "T-That's true, but not all Kappa are like t-that! Some just do harmless pranks-!"

"The only reason I have not killed you by now is because you have not provoked me. But if you know what's best for you, _stay away from my son_." With that, Xibalba grabbed both his children's arms and started leading them away, but Alastor resisted.

"Papá, wait!"

"Alastor, don't say anything else." Xibalba hissed. "You and I have a lot to talk about."

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks when he heard footsteps. Heavy footsteps. Kappa froze too, he knew what who was coming. An inhuman growl sent shivers down Alastor's spine. A creature which could only come from Hell stepped out. It was large and scary, taller than the tallest man would be, maybe even more. It had fiery red skin, wild, unkept black hair, and two a pair of sharp horns along with tusks protruding from its lower lips.

An Oni.

The demon had come looking for the Kappa, but when it saw an unknown black god accompanied with two godlings, he instantly changed targets. Probably those kids tasted better than an overgrown turtle.

"Children, run." Xibalba pushed his children away gently, unsheathing his sword.

"But papá…!" Marigold protested, but her father held out a wing protectively.

"No, Marigold, that demon is too powerful for you. Take Alastor away, now!"

The Oni charged, swinging its club menacingly. Xibalba waited until it was close enough, and when the club was about to crush him he moved quickly, slashing the demon's side. The Oni roared in pain, but it didn't seem to hurt him much.

"Al! Get out of here!" Kappa cried out at his friend. "The Oni wants you and your sister!"

" But-!"

Kappa grabbed a rock and threw it at the Oni's head, calling its attention. "Hey, you beast! It's me you were looking for, remember, or is your brain so small you forgot that quickly?!"

The Oni growled in anger, and forgot about Xibalba, instead stepping closer to Kappa, who was ready to run to his river, where the Oni wouldn't go into. Before Alastor could react, however, Xibalba had flown to him and picked him up, Marigold taking off after them quickly.

"Papá, wait! What about Kappa?!" he shrieked.

"Forget about him! He'll figure it out!" Xibalba simply retorted.

"But-!"

"No buts!"

Alastor could only stare at the clearing, as Kappa ran away, leading the Oni away, but he could catch the Yokai glancing back at him one last time before disappearing into the woods.

* * *

"Alastor, what were you thinking?!"

Alastor winced at his father raising his voice. Xibalba had told Marigold to go to bed, since he was going to have a talk with her brother. The sun had set a while ago, but right then Alastor was too worried about Kappa to mind his father yelling at him. However, he barely managed to reply. "I just made a friend…! He didn't hurt me…!"

"Unless my memory fails me, I warned you not to go into the woods alone in case you didn't hear me!

"I know, but…!"

"BUT WHAT?!" Xibalba tried not to raise his voice, but he was frustrated that his son didn't seem to understand the point.

"Kappa and the others were nice to me! They didn't seem wicked or evil to me!"

"Yokai are manipulators, Alastor! They are trickster spirits, and even if that weren't the case, it doesn't justify the fact that you disobeyed me! Boy, I don't know if you understand what could have happened!"

"They didn't want to tell me what Oni did to people…"

"I DO! Why do you think I told you to never approach those creatures! Because they are dangerous!"

"Not all Yokai are bad!" Alastor protested.

"That's not the point, Alastor!" Xibalba growled. "You disobeyed me! I don't care about that Yokai, I care about your wellbeing." The dark god took his hands behind his back, giving his son a disappointed look. "I expected more from you, my boy."

"You can't judge what you don't know! You said the Kappa were evil, but the one I met never harmed me!"

Xibalba narrowed his eyes. "What made you have that conclusion that I don't know how they are?"

"He was my friend! Not all Yokai are evil, some are benevolent! It's a matter of personality!"

"Please! I know what those creatures are capable of, I felt it on my own skin."

That did catch Alastor off guard. "What do you mean?"

"I came to Japan in my youth, and I had an incident with a Yokai." Xibalba turned away momentarily, looking down. "It wasn't pretty, I can assure you. But that doesn't matter anymore, what matters is that you understand what could have happened."

"But what about Kappa? I don't know if he's okay! I have to go see-!" But before he could even stand up, his father looked at him with a serious expression.

"Son… I think it would be better if you didn't have anymore contact with any of them."

Alastor _did_ get back on his feet, this time out of shock. "But papá, Kappa-! He might be dead!"

"Alastor…" Xibalba tried to place a comforting hand on his son's shoulder, but the godling stepped back, his eyes swelling up with tears.

"You don't care, do you?!" Alastor cried. "You don't care about my friends!"

"How can I be certain that your… 'friends' won't bring any harm on you? I'm your father, my job is to protect you."

"Marigold is friends with Camazok and you don't tell her anything! You're always saying Camazotl is very man and cruel!"

"Yes, but Camazok it's not. Alastor, if you could only understand…"

"So you don't like my friends just because they're not gods?! You do the same thing with Feronia!"

Xibalba frowned. "Alastor, watch the tone of your voice!"

"It's not fair! How come Marigold can befriend whoever she wants?!

"She can't, not as long as I'm here." Xibalba sighed. "Alastor, we're leaving tomorrow and we probably won't come here ever again. I don't want you to make temporary friends who you will never see again."

"But I want to keep in touch with Kappa!"

"ALASTOR, YOU CAN'T BE FRIENDS WITH THAT KAPPA! PLEASE UNDERSTAND…!"

"WHY NOT?! WHAT DO YOU HAVE AGAINST KAPPA!"

"YOU JUST CAN'T!" Xibalba sighed, managing to calm down. But he stood his ground. "Don't try any further. I won't change my mind."

Alastor didn't know what came over him, but he yelled at his father. "You're racist!" he was quick to regret it, though, when suddenly Xibalba spread out his wings menacingly, the room darkening.

"If I _ever_ hear you talk to me like that again, Alastor…" Xibalba hissed. He would not tolerate any disrespect, though he did feel bad when he saw the tears trickling down his son's cheeks.

"What…?" Alastor asked sobbing. "You'll hit me like your father did?"

That struck a nerve. He just had to bring Akrinok into this. Xibalba would not go easy on him this time, if he had to learn the bad way, so be it. "No. I have other ways that I know would work on you." He took a few steps forward until he was just in front of Alastor. "Taking all your books from you. Or not letting you out of the castle for a certain amount of weeks. Dessert restriction. And no communication with Feronia. And believe me, these are _mild_, Alastor. And for going there without my permission you will be grounded once we get home. That's why I won't let you go see that Kappa. All actions have consequences."

Alastor had never seen this side of his father. It frightened him. The godling was off in tears, and ran towards his room. Xibalba realized he had made a mistake, he hadn't meant to make him cry.

"Alastor!" Xibalba went after him. "Alastor, wait!"

But by then, Alastor was already in his room, the door locked. Xibalba knocked the door. "Al, open the door, please…"

"Go away!" Alastor snapped from behind the door, sobbing.

"Al, I…" Xibalba realized it was futile for the time being. As he went back to his room, feeling guilty over what had just happened, he sighed sadly. "What am I going to do with this boy…?"


End file.
